


There's an American in the Dungeons!

by Literatekatana



Series: There's an American [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Ilvermorny, Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Slytherin Pride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 05:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 126,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13606683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literatekatana/pseuds/Literatekatana
Summary: Lian Kowalski transfers to Hogwarts in the time of spies, and everyone is trying to figure out who to trust. Studying at the British school of Witchcraft and Wizardry has always been her dream, but how and why are still a mystery. Join the thrill ride as she turns her new House & the rest of the school upside-down.





	1. First Impressions

Lurching onto Platform 9 ¾ was not exactly how Lian pictured her first step towards Hogwarts. She’d taken several portkeys that morning, and was relieved to finally reach the last destination. Ish. Now it seemed she just had to sit on a red steam engine for the foreseeable future. The train was beautiful, but struck her as somewhat ordinary. 

She climbed onto one of the carts, hefting her suitcase up behind her with minor difficulty, and settled in the first empty compartment she could find. After stowing her baggage in the overhead rack, she claimed the seat nearest the window so she could watch the platform fill with all kinds of magicfolk from all over the United Kingdom. 

Some of them would be her schoolmates soon. Not immediately, perhaps, but soon. Her eyes were captured by a group of people suddenly appearing near the back of the train, all with vivid red hair. Among them was a boy with glasses who was saying goodbye to his pet dog, a big, black thing the size of a small bear. She smiled softly, though no one saw.

She’d had a few goodbyes herself. Her siblings and mother were excited for her, but her father just cried when it came time for her to leave. She’d had a pet too, but customs wouldn’t allow her to bring him along. 

Lian suddenly had the feeling that someone was in fact watching her. She scanned the platform outside the window, which was full of wizards and witches with their children; some in robes and others in street clothes. Then, she spotted it. There was a man leaning against a pillar who, for whatever reason, drew her gaze. Maybe it was the scarred and mangled face, or maybe it was the long trenchcoat. Maybe it was even the clawed, wooden foot sticking out from under his robes, but most likely it was the false eye that was trained on her.

At first she had a difficult time reaching any of his memories or emotions, but finally she was filled with an overwhelming sense of suspicion. The man had had a busy morning, he was like a hired bodyguard or something to keep an eye or two on a large group of people. No, Lian strained to extract the correct memory from this distance, he wasn’t a bodyguard he was...an ex-auror. She blinked at the battleworn man, raising her eyebrows.  _ Cool. _

“Who the hell are you?” the door had opened suddenly and the speaker caught her off guard. She looked up to find a whole entourage staring down at her. “This is  _ our _ compartment!”

“I didn’t see your name on it.” Lian replied, eying the group. The speaker was a boy with prominent cheekbones and a scar on his left eyebrow. Behind him stood two burly boys, a girl with freckles and a strong jaw, and another girl with ash blonde hair. “Unless you intend to tell me that, collectively, your names are Compartment J?”

“We always sit here.” the girl with the strong jaw piped up. Or rather, growled. “You can leave.”

“In the time it’s taken you to argue over seating arrangements, you could have found another empty compartment to invade.” The whistle rang out across the train, and it began to move along the tracks. “As it is, you might just get stuck with me.”

“Or you could learn how to count, and leave before we make you.” the first boy said menacingly, taking out his wand. 

Lian’s own wand started to tremble in her pocket. “How about instead I tell everyone about your adventure with a transvestite this summer?” The boy froze, the other four frowning in bewilderment. “Or what about your-” she directed herself at the burly boy to his right, “-new diet plan, that your mother’s forcing you to do because you can no longer fit into any of your age-appropriate clothing? And let’s not forget about your-” she looked at the other massive boy. “-father’s habit of coming home and-”

“Oy!” the third boy grunted, his eyes wide. “How’re you doing that!”

“It’s called magic,” Lian said matter-of-factly. “What on earth have  _ you _ been studying for the past few years?” She leaned back in her seat as the train began to pick up speed. “You can either sit here with me or go terrorize a few twelve year olds into submission. I’m not moving.”

The girls exchanged a wry look, before pushing past the slack-jawed boys into the compartment and loading up their suitcases. The ash blond took the seat beside Lian, while Strong-Jaw sat across from her. “Millicent Bulstrode.”

“And Daphne Greengrass.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said Lian dryly. “And you boys? Gonna ride the whole trip slack-jawed?”

A moment later the five of them were seated, though the burly boys had taken up a kind of vigil near the door. Lian discovered that their names were Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle; while the pouty faced boy was called Blaise Zabini. He glared at her for several minutes, even after she’d pulled out a textbook and started to read. A few minutes into the trip and they were joined by another boy with perfectly styled brown hair, whom they called Theo, or Nott in some cases. He cast a look over at Lian in the corner. “Who’s this?”

“Hasn’t been quite forthcoming-” Greengrass began to say, but was interrupted by Zabini.

“Bloody mind-reader, that’s who.” he said, sounding disgruntled from where he sat on Daphne’s other side.

Lian gave a hollow laugh. “Hardly, I assure you. My name is Lian Kowalski, and you don’t recognize me because I’m transferring to Hogwarts from another school.”

“Why?” Bulstrode asked, shifting aside to make room for Nott, who insisted on being closer to the window.

“Because I wanted to, and nobody said I couldn’t.”

“So you haven’t been sorted yet?” Greengrass frowned.

“At Hogwarts? Seeing as I’ve never set foot in the place I’m going to have to say no.”

“What about your last school? Were there not houses there?” Nott inquired, his expression bored but his tone curious.

“Yes. Ilvermorny has four Houses, same as Hogwarts. I was in Thunderbird.” Lian explained, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.

“What are the other three called?” someone asked, but she hadn’t paid attention to whom.

“There’s Wampus, Pukwudgie, and Horned Serpent.”

“Let me guess,” Zabini said, leaning forward. “Thunderbird’s the smart house, Wampus is the idiot house, Pukwudgie’s the pushover house, and Horned Serpent is the best house.”

Lian blinked calmly at him, also leaning forward to view him properly. “Not even close. Horned Serpent represents the mind of a wizard, and favors scholars. Pukwudgie represents the heart of a wizard, and favors healers. Wampus represents the body of a wizard and prefers warriors. Thunderbird-” Lian huffed, sitting up straight and looking at Zabini down her nose. “-represents the soul, and favors adventurers. But please, tell me which of your houses are classified as the, what was it again?” she mimed confusion before pretending to have revelation. “Oh yeah, the smart house, idiot house, pushover and best house, as you so eloquently depicted.”

Greengrass and Bulstrode shared that same wry expression, but this time with Nott as well. Zabini didn’t look as mollified as Lian would have hoped, but he did seem at a loss.  _ Ilvermorny: 1, Hogwarts: 0. _

Clearing her throat pointedly, she raised her book up and continued to read. It wasn’t a book for any class she’d signed up for this year, it was one her uncle had sent for her birthday a few weeks ago. She’d read about Nifflers before she’d gone to bed last night, and was just reaching the interesting chapter on Thestrals. Apparently the largest herd in existence was somewhere within the Forbidden Forest, under Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore’s protection.

“A Thestral can only be seen by those who have

witnessed death and have accepted its reality.”

She read quietly, but paused to consider the fact.  _ So, if I watched Zabini die, but lived in a perpetual state of denial, then I wouldn’t be able to see one? Interesting. What else? _

 

“This magical beast is classified under XXXX, meaning that

only experienced and qualified wizards should be handling

these magnificent creatures.

Breeding or owning Thestrals is discouraged or illegal (vary-

-ing with regions,) without Ministry consent.”

 

_ What about MACUSA? _ She wondered, taking out a pen and making a note in the margins. 

 

Almost an hour had passed when the sliding door opened, revealing a disagreeable looking pair. The boy was tall and lean, with white blond hair and pointed features. The girl had dark hair and green eyes, with an upturned nose that would have been cute, except it was displayed on a sour expression. She sat next to Bulstrode while the boy she came with sat on her other side. From where Lian observed from over her textbook, she noticed that they both wore silver badges engraved with a ‘P’. 

“You lot wouldn’t believe who else has made Prefect,” the boy declared, his voice so loud Lian wondered if he’d taken acting classes as a child.  _ Project your voice, that’s the ticket! _ “Macmillan and Abbott from Hufflepuff, Patil and Goldstein-” Lian found that she was paying attention more and more, whether because the boy’s drawling tone was drilling into her ears or because of the surnames he was listing off. “-from Ravenclaw--and get this: the Mudblood and Weasley from Gryffindor.” This pronouncement was followed by a kind of smug look, as though he’d achieved something impossible.

“Really? Dumbledore didn’t appoint his precious Potter as Prefect?” Zabini replied, spitting a little every time he spoke his p’s. “Has the Boy-Who-Lived gone and become the Boy-Who-Finally-Kicked-the -Bucket?”

Malfoy looked thoughtful. “Maybe. Common boys, let’s have a look.” He stood up, followed by the two sentries by the door and vanished down the hallway. 

Once they were gone, the girl with the sour face said, “I doubt it. It’d be all over the Prophet, wouldn’t it?” her green eyes latched onto Lian, narrowing instantly. “Who the hell are you?”

Lian set her book in her lap and placed a hand across her chest dramatically, her eyes wide. “You can see me?” She then let out a sigh of relief. “For a moment there I thought I’d turned invisible. Again.”

“You don’t go to Hogwarts, I’ve never seen you before.” the girl insisted, ignoring Bulstrodes sniggering. 

“I go to Hogwarts now, and it’s a thrill to meeting someone like you on my first day, Miss…?”

“Parkinson,” she barked, still looking suspicious and confused. “Pansy Parkinson. But you’re not a First Year, I mean you’re…” she glanced down at Lian’s chest before quickly looking back up. “I mean…”

Lian smiled widely. “Don’t be embarrassed, Parkinson, you’re not the first one to think what you just thought  by looking at me. I’m a transfer student, and you’d better explain that to your boyfriend when he gets back because I don’t like repeating myself.”

She raised her book once again, refusing to expound any further on the matter. She could hear Pansy whispering with Bulstrode and Nott. “What is she doing in  _ our _ compartment?”

It was Zabini who replied. “She wouldn’t leave.”

“You’re a wizard, aren’t you? Make her.” Parkinson spelled out.

“No don’t,” Greengrass said. “She’s funny. And if you do force her out, Blaise, I’ll write your mother about that...what was the word she used…”

“Transvestite.” Lian supplied from behind her book.

“Yes, that!” Greengrass giggled. 

“ _ What! _ ” Parkinson hissed. “ _ Blaise Alcides Za- _ ”

“Shut up!” Zabini cried, and there was a scuffling noise as though he’d tried to kick her. Still hidden behind her book, Lian smiled to herself. This was going to be an interesting year.


	2. Caution: Singing Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For future reference: anything that's underlined is a direct quote from the books.

The rest of the trip passed unremarkably for Lian, given that she took a nap about halfway into it. (Jetlag, as the No-Maj’s call it.) Before she drifted off, she’d been leaning against the window, just as it started to rain. When she awoke, she was resting against Greengrass, it was dark outside, and the train was beginning to slow.

Sitting up and blinking at the girl beside her, she stifled a yawn. “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” she replied. “But you might want to change into robes before you get off the train.”

Glancing down at her t-shirt, which had _Red Hot Chili Peppers_ emblazoned across it, Lian nodded. “Probably.” She stood and grabbed the plain, boring black robes from  her trunk, throwing them on quickly. By the time she’d finished, the train had come to a halt, presumably in a station or alongside a platform, but it was too dark to really tell. Still, the glass reflection helped as she checked to see if they’d drawn anything on her face while she’d napped. They hadn’t.   _Ilvermorny 1: Hogwarts 1._

“So if this is your first time at Hogwarts,” the blond boy began, shrugging on his silver and green lined robes. “Does that mean you’ll ride the boats?”

“I don’t know,” Lian replied. “Does it make a difference? We’re all headed to the castle, right? First years don’t spend the night in the middle of the lake, do they?”

“No, but that’s an interesting idea.” said Nott, pulling his suitcase down from the overhead rack. “You can probably come in the carriages, I don’t think anyone will stop you.”

Lian, not really knowing the significance of either mode of transportation, merely shrugged, gathered her luggage and followed the group out onto the platform. It had stopped raining, but everything outside was wet and glistening. The group followed the pale boy, who seemed to be the alpha or dominant one.  

They took over two carriages, pulled by nothing, or likely the Thestrals mentioned in her book. Lian was close to touching one of them when Bulstrode snapped at her to get into the carriage. Sitting beside Nott, she kept her eyes on the lights of the castle as it slowly came into view.

The structure appeared daunting at first, but once inside the grounds it suddenly became a bit more inviting than before. _Must be part of its charm or defensive spellwork,_ she thought as the carriage pulled to a stop outside the stone steps. She hopped out and followed the crowd into a large entrance hall, where they immediately entered a larger room opposite a grand, marble staircase. There she lost track of the group, and heard someone calling to her. Turning on the spot, she looked up into the face of an older woman with her black hair pulled into a knot at the base of her neck. She wore a stern expression as she guided Lian back from the crowd.

“You are our transfer student, are you not?” the woman said briskly. Lian took notice of her Scottish accent. “I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House.” _Remind me to not get into Gryffindor._ “ I must ask that you remain out in the entry way until the rest of the First years arrive.”

“But I’m not a First year,” Lian protested. “I was told I’d be joining the Fifth years.”

“But this is your first year at Hogwarts,” McGonagall spoke as though this was obvious. “As such, you need to be sorted. Please be patient.”

And patient she was, or so Lian thought. The majority of the student body had vanished within the larger room when the First years arrived, led by another teacher who was carrying a lantern. “Here you go, Professor McGonagall!”

“Thank you, Professor Grubbly-Plank.” said the stern-faced woman, allowing the other teacher to disappear into the hall. She then turned to the group of tiny eleven year olds. “Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.  
“The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.   
“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

She disappeared between the double doors, leaving Lian to stand before the curious gazes of about two dozen first years. She ignored them as best as she could until McGonagall returned moments later.

“We’re ready for you.” Leading them through the doors, Lian seized the chance to drink in what she could. There were four long tables, where the students were sitting, under a banner with each House’s crest and colors. The staff members had a table all to themselves at the other end of the hall. In the center chair was a wizard with a long white beard, who could only be Albus Dumbledore.  
Every eye in the Great Hall was upon her, and likely the little first years. If she wasn’t so tall, it might not have been as bad. As it was, she wished she had thought to shrink herself before walking in. They halted near the staff table, where there was a stool and an old, torn and abused wizards hat placed atop it. Silence settled over the room, and unless Lian was off her game, everyone seemed to be waiting on the hat.

And then, the brim of the hat opened, and the hat began to sing:

 _In times of old when I was new_   
_And Hogwarts barely started_   
_The founders of our noble school_   
_Thought never to be parted:_   
_United by a common goal,_   
_They had the selfsame yearning,_   
_To make the world’s best magic school_   
_(Best?)_  
_And pass along their learning._   
_“Together we will build and teach!”_   
_The four good friends decided_   
_And never did they dream that they_   
_Might someday be divided,_   
_For were there such friends anywhere_   
_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_   
_Unless it was the second pair_   
_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_   
_So how could it have gone so wrong?_   
_How could such friendship fail?_   
_Why, I was there and so can tell_   
_The whole sad, sorry tale._   
_Said Slytherin, “We’ll teach just those_   
_Whose ancestry is purest.”_   
_Said Ravenclaw, “We’ll teach all those whose_   
_Intelligence is surest.”_   
_Said Gryffindor, “We’ll teach all those_   
_With brave deeds to their name,”_   
_Said Hufflepuff, “I’ll teach the lot,_   
_And treat them just the same.”_   
_These differences caused little strife_   
_When first they came to light,_   
_For each of the four founders had_   
_A House in which they might_   
_Take only those they wanted, so,_   
_For instance, Slytherin_   
_Took only pure-blood wizards_   
_Of great cunning, just like him,_   
_And only those of sharpest mind_   
_Were taught by Ravenclaw_   
_While the bravest and the boldest_   
_Went to daring Gryffindor._   
_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_   
_And taught them all she knew,_   
_Thus the Houses and their founders_   
_Retained friendships firm and true._   
_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_   
_For several happy years,_   
_But then discord crept among us_   
_Feeding on our faults and fears._   
_The Houses that, like pillars four,_   
_Had once held up our school,_   
_Now turned upon each other and,_   
_Divided, sought to rule._   
_And for a while it seemed the school_   
_Must meet an early end,_   
_What with dueling and with fighting_   
_And the clash of friend on friend_   
_And at last there came a morning_   
_When old Slytherin departed_   
_And though the fighting then died out_   
_He left us quite downhearted._   
_And never since the founders four_   
_Were whittled down to three_   
_Have the Houses been united_   
_As they once were meant to be._   
_And now the Sorting Hat is here_   
_And you all know the score:_   
_I sort you into Houses_   
_Because that is what I’m for,_   
_But this year I’ll go further,_   
_Listen closely to my song:_   
_Though condemned I am to split you_   
_Still I worry that it’s wrong,_   
_Though I must fulfill my duty_   
_And must quarter every year_   
_Still I wonder whether sorting_   
_May not bring the end I fear._   
_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_   
_For our Hogwarts is in danger_   
_From external, deadly foes_   
_And we must unite inside her_   
_Or we’ll crumble from within_   
_I have told you, I have warned you. . ._   
Let the Sorting now begin.   


Lian didn’t attempt to hide the look of shock and apprehension that had dawned on her face the longer the hat sang. The moment it finished everyone broke into applause, as though this happened all the time, and was something to celebrate. She glanced around the hall, as if expecting something else to burst into song. The Badgers and Lions on the banners started a jig, she would march back  to the train station.

Professor McGonagall pulled out a scroll of parchment, and began to read out the names of the first years alphabetically. When the first boy was called, he sat upon the stool and allowed the old hat to be placed on his head. Moments later, the brim of the hat opened again, but instead of a song, it merely shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

 _How does this work? Do I get a say or does it decide for me? That might make things difficult._ Lian glanced at McGonagall. _Please not Gryffindor._

“Kelsey, Brandon.” was called to the hat, and seconds later he became a Ravenclaw. And then, “Kowalski, Julianne.”

Lian winced involuntarily, stepping forward to sit on the stool as McGonagall placed the hat on her head. She didn’t know what she anticipated, but the last thing she expected was a whisper to penetrate her mind. **Hmm. You’ve already got a House; strange that you should strut into this castle and try to adopt a new one.**

 _You can see in my head, you know why I’m here._ Lian shot back, feeling defensive. _Get on with it._

 **Indeed. And what a mind you possess. Plenty of bravery in here, with a quick, questioning mind. You’re diligent, and already so well skilled. And yet… the choice is clear… There’s only one place for you within… better be…** “SLYTHERIN!”

The Sorting Hat shouted the name aloud, to a nearly stunned audience. The table under the green banner and the staff clapped loudly, but the other three tables were frowning up at her as though she’d sprouted fangs. They clapped briefly, but it was late and they stopped quickly. Lian returned the Hat to McGonagall, and approached the table under the green banner. She was only mildly surprised to recognize a few faces among the students seated there. Tentatively, she sat across from Greengrass and Goyle, beside Bulstrode. Strong-Jaw herself clapped her on the back. Lian felt as though her entire spine shattered, but she could still feel her legs so that was something.

The sorting continued until “Zeller, Rose!” became a Hufflepuff, and the Headmaster signaled for the feast to start. There was a collective sigh of relief as the golden plates filled with food before their very eyes. Lian took a tentative nibble from one of the pork chops and muttered, “House elf,” before she dug in. Around her, the others ate and ignored her for the most part. Occasionally, when she would look up to grab seconds or thirds, she’d find someone staring at her. Whether in the same house or not, she would smile and sometimes wave her fork at them before turning back to her plate.

“Half of that song was complete rubbish,” the blond boy on the other side of Goyle was saying. He was halfway through a steak and kidney pie, but was convinced that critiquing an enchanted hat was more important than his appetite. Or theirs.

“Does it do that every night?” Lian asked the moment her mouth was empty. “Sing? It’s a little off putting.”

“Pudding?” Crabbe looked up from demolishing an entire roast chicken.

“Swallow before you spew, Crabbe,” said Nott in disgust. The blond looked irritated that he’d lost control of the conversation. As subtly as possible, Lian nudged the girl beside her.

“Bulstrode, what’s _his_ name? He never said.”

“Malfoy.”

Lian looked down the table at him, furrowing her brow. “Huh.”

“Heard of him?” Bulstrode asked distractedly, reaching for the potatoes.

“Not exactly.” she answered evasively. Bulstrode wasn’t paying attention, and the matter dropped, leaving them to eat in peace.

Almost too soon, the plates were emptied, the cups drained, and Lian suddenly felt wired, a stark contrast to everyone else around her, who were liable to fall asleep at any given moment. At the head of the Staff table, Dumbledore had risen to his fee. All manner of noise came to an end as everyone turned to face the headmaster.

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” said Dumbledore. “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students--and a few of our older students ought to know by now too.” ( _Dangit. But I bet I could still go in there without getting in trouble._ ) “Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s office door.  
        “We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”  
        There was a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause. Lian squinted at the so-called Umbridge woman. She was an ugly, squat little woman who resembled a frog….no, a toad. She was wearing the worst shade of pink Lian had ever laid her eyes on.  
        Dumbledore continued, “Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the--”  
        He broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. A moment later, she cleared her throat. “Hem, hem,” and Lian immediately loathed the woman. Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. Lian sighed, folding her arms on the edge of the table so she could rest her head there.  
        “Thank you, Headmaster,” Professor Umbridge simpered, “for those kind words of welcome.” She had a high-pitched, breathy voice, that made her sound like a twelve-year old girl with a crush. Lian felt a powerful rush of dislike for her once again, even without looking at her sickeningly pink cardigan. She gave another little throat-clearing cough and continued: “Well it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!”  
        Lian groaned softly. _Seriously? She’s the Defense teacher? She sounds like a kindergarten substitute._  
         “I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!” (Lian snorted.) “The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance….” she began to drone on in that disgusting voice and Lian wished for nothing more than to be old enough to disapparate to anywhere but in the Great Hall. She sat up and reached into her robes to withdraw her wand. Pointing it at herself, she cast a deafening spell on herself so she didn’t have to listen to the pink toad anymore. She then twirled it between her fingers out of habit and put in her lap, pretending to watch Umbridge without actually being able to do so. Even without the sound, Lian noticed that she would continue to clear her throat at random intervals of her speech.  
        _Maybe she does the shrill voice on purpose, which is messing with her vocal chords and she needs to clear it often to keep it up._ _  
_         At length, the speech ended with her returning to her seat, and Dumbledore rose to resume his speech. Lian was tempted to keep the spell going however, it was nice to be surrounded with silence after the long day. Still, she lifted the spell with a flick, and stared up at the Headmaster as he explained the last few details of the year. Quidditch, expectations, new rules, blah, blah, blah. He dismissed them shortly, and everyone got to their feet.

“Come on then,” Bulstrode grumbled beside Lian, staggering to a standing position. “Unless you want to get lost on the way to the Common room.”

“She might,” said Zabini, straightening his robes. “She’s a self-proclaimed adventurer after all,” he added sarcastically.

“How thoughtful of you,” Lian walked with them out of the hall, noticing how they elbowed younger students out of their way. “Still I know how to tell between adventure and stupidity. Don’t worry though, Zabini, I’m sure you’ll learn the difference one day.”

Bulstrode laughed all the way down into the dungeons, ignoring Zabini’s cries of “shut up!” The further they walked in the stone corridors, the lower the temperature became. They paused in front of a blank stretch of wall, and gave each other the same look of confusion.

“Do either of you know the password?” Zabini asked.

“Why on earth would I?” Lian replied, looking around the hallway in an effort to remember it in the future.

“Hang on, here’s Graham now,” said Bulstrode, nodded over Zabini’s shoulder. Another student joined them, a tall boy with a heavy build and brown hair. “What’s the password?”

The boy raised his voice and said, “ **_Might is Right,_ ** ” and the stone wall opened to admit them. Lian hesitated, and had to be dragged in by Bulstrode, who did so by grasping the front of her robes.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs.  
“Cozy,” commented Lian, giving the rectangular room a quick once over.

“So you’re the transfer student,” the aforementioned Graham stated, settling in a chair that looked like a black throne. He rested his chin on his hands and studied her with his dark eyes. “Do you play Quidditch?”

Lian tossed her hair in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t play, I compete.”

Graham nodded. “Tryouts are on Thursday.” He then looked away from her, as though dismissing a peasant from his presence. Actually, from what his emotions were saying, that’s exactly how he meant it. Instead of putting up a fuss, Lian rolled her eyes and followed Bulstrode towards the girls dormitory, down another long hallway off the main room.

Upon reaching the circular room, Lian and Bulstrode found that Greengrass had beat them there, already sprawled across her bed, out for the night.

“She likes her ‘beauty sleep’,” Bulstrode muttered, before gesturing to the bed nearest the door. “That’s probably for you.”

The bed was a four poster, carved from oak and painted black. The curtains were silver and the silk sheets green. _House pride, I guess._ Lian thought while she prepared to sleep. The bed was soft and seemed to envelope her the moment she climbed in. Even with her nap from the train ride, she suddenly felt very sleepy. The last thing she was aware of before darkness claimed her was Greengrass’ soft snoring from the next bed over.


	3. Pigpimples

Lian woke up before anyone else in the room, and thank Merlin for clocks, because without a window, she had no alternative way of telling what time it was.  _ 4:37am? Damn jetlag. _ She grumbled, but was ultimately faced with tossing and turning for the next few hours while her body would refuse to go back to sleep; or she could explore the castle until breakfast.

_ Are there rules about being out of bed too early? I shouldn’t think so...not if I don’t get caught. _ Set in her decision, she dressed quietly, noting that the plain black robes now bore the Slytherin crest on the left-hand side. It was a simple thing, really, but it made all of this much more real than anything else thus far. 

After braiding her hair tightly, so that it was like a length of rope hanging from the back of her head, she slipped on her shoes, grabbed her broom and left. Three attempts at escaping the dungeons paid off and she ran to the great double doors that separated her from the grounds. Pale light was starting to peek in through the high windows, but the blasted doors were locked. On the off chance there was an alarm spell on them, she didn’t dare try to enchant them. Instead, she climbed the enchanted staircase to the second floor, opened a window, and took off into the misty morning.

There wasn’t much to see at 5:02 in the morning, especially with the heavy grey clouds promising more rain later that morning. Rising through the cloud cover, earning herself a nice, cold rinse in the process, Lian steered herself to glide along one of the many air currents, so she could fly without focus. 

Someone with her inherited abilities craved silence, isolation, and yet needed to be near others at the same time. Her empathetic drive wouldn’t quit, and she could wear herself out very quickly if she wasn’t careful. She’d first recognized her gift when she was about six, her paternal grandparents were visiting and she’d held an entire conversation with Babcia using emotions and memories. The experience drained her completely, enough to knock her out. She’d woken up several days later, and Babcia told her that she would someday be a powerful Legilimens.

It had been strange at first, being able to reach a person without them reaching back. Sometimes it was an easier way, and sometimes it was a curse. She learned secrets without meaning to. She heard private thoughts that must never be spoken aloud. She even felt emotions that hadn’t and wouldn’t ever belonged to her. The important thing, Babcia had taught her, was to make yourself like a reflection pool. Calm, unmoving, and safe. The less people suspected you were reading them, the less they would resist.Not that they really could; most wizards and witches her age didn’t know how to spell Occlumency, let alone study it.

But all the while she could see into the memories of others, it took deliberate effort to view her own. Lian had discovered that her mind was most relaxed when it was in the clouds, literally.  _  She could still see her Great Uncle, still as nimble as he ever was, but more wizened. He’d taught her everything she’d ever wanted to know about the British Wizarding World. “Magic,” he’d tell her, as she sat upon his knee. “Is used very differently in the UK than it is in America. Wizardkind in the UK learn all their spells verbally first.” _

_ “That’s stupid of them,” her little eight year old voice would squeak. “What if a No-Maj overheard?” _

_ He’d nod, as she hit the nail on the head. “Exactly. In America, the laws were so strict about secrecy from the Muggles, that they never used verbal incantations. American wizards only teach, learn and use non-verbal magic, so as to avoid detection from non-magic folk.” _

_ “And the UK never worried about it?” _

_ He’d make his thinking face and scratch his neck. “No...they worried. But not nearly as much as American wizards. Not enough to where it affected how they learned magic.” _

_ “They teach magic differently in Pigpimples?” she’d ask innocently. _

_ “It’s not called that!” he’d insist, try to look cross and fail terribly. “Who keeps teaching you that? The British wizarding school is called Hogwarts!” _

_ “Auntie May says its Pigpimples!” she’d giggle as his wrinkled face grew decidedly more anguished.  _

_ “Auntie May is a tricky Pukwudgie and doesn’t know what she’s talking about!” _

_ “Great Uncle Oot,” she’d been capable of saying his name properly by then, but insisted on her nickname for him anyway. “Could I go to your school if I chose to?” _

_ “I’d love for nothing more, even if your name’s already down on Ilvermorny.” he’d grumble the name of the American school with obvious signs of distaste. It made her giggle. “If one day you decide to go to Hogwarts-” _

_ “Piggypustules.”  _

_ “-HOGWARTS, you can. I’ll even help you. Just say the word.” And then he’d smile, his perfectly kind eyes atwinkle.  _

 

A rather abrupt gust of wind jolted her back to the present, and Lian discovered a new wetness forming in her tear ducts. She dived back into the clouds, through to the grounds below, her fall becoming so steep she almost reversed direction. The murky depths of the Black Lake appeared through the mist before she pulled up, shooting across the water at just the right angle, spray following her wake. She returned to glide over the grounds, passing a large, solitary tree that swatted at her like a fly. The stinging in her arm told her that the trees around Piggypustules had good aim.

  
  


“Really now,” the matron was saying, even as she fussed over the gash on her arm and shoved a potion into her hands. It smelled of wood smoke and something new. “What kind of student tries to get this close to the Whomping Willow on the first day? At the crack of dawn, nonetheless!”

Lian sensed that it was a rhetorical question, however irately it was communicated. She’d flown herself through the halls of the castle rather than stumble around trying to find the hospital wing. After finding it with relative ease, she longed for permission to fly always, for it was so much less of a bother than walking. The resident healer, Madame Pomfrey, was barely awake when she’d hovered over the threshold, but she snapped to it once she spotted blood on Lian’s robes.

She’d cleaned the wound and fixed it up with a few well placed spells, but then she took the matter of drying her robes, stitching up the torn sleeves and making sure she didn’t fall ill from flying in the cold damp for the better part of an hour or so. The potion she made Lian drink was a kind of pick-me-up. The moment the orange fluid touched her tongue, she felt heat spread through her body again. 

_ Funny how you can go numb without realizing it. I guess that’s the point. _

“There.” the matron said at last, stepping back to examine her handiwork. “You should be able to attend classes today; but don’t make a habit of this, or I shall report you to the Headmaster!”

“Thank you, Madame Pomfrey.” Lian replied, humbled. “Can I go down to an early breakfast?”

The matron glanced at the clock on the wall, half past six. “Mm. I daresay you could. But you’d better put your broom away, first.”

Lian glanced at her Sky Shatter, nodding. The matron released her without further complaint, and while her back was turned, Lian mounted her broom and shot out the door. 

And right over a pair of red-headed twins, wandering the 4th floor corridor. They had been arguing until she whizzed between them, flashing them a smile, before bolting for the staircases where she could pick another floor at random.

“Oy!” she heard the shout from behind and above as she dived through floors, levelled at the marble staircase, and disappeared into the dungeons. Slowing as she reached the blank space of wall, she dismounted and breathed the password, “ **_Might is Right,_ ** ” and as the stone moved for her she hissed, “Well, not really, but whatever works for you.”

She had hoped to find the common room empty but she was disappointed to find otherwise. A cold, drawling voice stopped her quick route to her room. “What in the Order of Merlin do you think you’re doing?”

The man standing in the shadows would have terrified her, if he didn’t resemble her mother’s brother Anatoly, who happened to be a sloppy drunk. Even as the tall, hook nosed figure stepped into the green light, looking to the world like a predator stalking its prey, she half expected him to emit a high-pitched giggle and lurch sideways. No such action was made, and Lian couldn’t help but feel disappointed. 

“I believe I asked you a question,” the man said, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. 

“You did. I don’t believe you gave me a reason to care.” Lian spoke before she could think about it first. Somewhere at home, her father was sneezing. 

“I am Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House, and very close to giving you a detention, Ms. Kowalski. Do not make me repeat myself.”

It took Lian a good minute to remember what he’d asked of her, because she got distracted by his name.  _ Did he say Snipe? Couldn’t have, but it’d be really funny if he-oh wait he’s still glaring. Don’t laugh. Whatever you do, don’t laugh!  _ “I went for a tour before breakfast.” she said lamely.

“On a broomstick?”

“I was outside.”

“In this weather?”

“Reckon so, unless the south side of the castle is experiencing a random bit of sunshine.”

The professor emitted a sigh. “Ms. Kowalski, you needed be so flippant with me. I am to be your Head of House this term, I would rather you view me as a confidant than someone you need avoid.” His dark eyes bore into hers. “Now, try answering me again.”

Lian found herself captured in his gaze, like lasers they pierced her, or tried. It hadn’t been long since someone had attempted to penetrate her mental shields the way she phased through everyone else’s. (Her little brother tried to do it between mealtimes at home.) Determined to keep her mind private, she focused on waffles. Thick, buttered waffles, bathed in maple syrup. Professor Snape’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes had a new glint in them, and Lian was certain that he was visualizing them too. “Have you ever had jetlag, Professor Snape?” she asked. “It’s hell. Have a good morning, sir.” She ran into the girl's dormitory before the wizard could actually respond. 


	4. Welcome to Hogwarts

“You look like as if you’ve been dragged.” Bulstrode tilted her head at her as they sat down for breakfast. “Have a rough night?”

Lian stifled a yawn as she reached for the toast. “That’s one way to put it.” After escaping an awkward encounter with the vampire from the black lagoon, she stowed her broom and lay on her bed until the other girls stirred. It was barely 8 o’clock in the morning and already she knew that the day would be several hours too long. “Could you pass the jam, Parkinson?”

“Hmm?” Parkinson looked up from a sheet of parchment. “Oh yeah.” 

“What’s that?”

“New course schedule. Looks like we’ve got Charms first thing, and then Double Potions with the Gryffindors. That’s always a laugh,” she smirked, handed the jam to Lian, and glanced down the table to where the boys were just arriving. 

“What makes the Gryffindors funny?” Lian asked. “Or is it the Potions Master?”

“Both of them combined, really,” Greengrass answered from where she was stirring her porridge. “Professor Snape loathes the whole of Gryffindor House, but everyone knows he especially enjoys picking on Potter.”

“Hold up, did you say Snape?”

“ _ Professor _ Snape, and why?”

Instead of answering, Lian moodily crunched on a mouthful of toast, staring up at the staff table. She’d hoped she could avoid seeing her new Head of House for at least a week, but it figures he’d be the teacher of one of the most crucial courses.  _ Honestly, why couldn’t he be the bookkeeper in the school library or something? _ She didn’t entirely understand why she felt so unsettled by his presence, but it was something she had hardly encountered before. Part of her suspected it had something to do with the fact that she couldn’t get a reading from him. 

That was a big deal for her. Sitting on the bench, surrounded by her new Housemates, she could sense how much Parkinson and Greengrass were pining for someone’s specific attention, even this early in the morning. She could practically hear Bulstrode’s mild outrage that the bacon was all the way down the other end of the table, and in order to retrieve it she’d have to bypass Crabbe and Goyle. At the next table, a group of Hufflepuffs poured over their schedules, and one boy in particular was peeved that he had to attend Divination on the first day back. Further still, at the Gryffindor table, a girl was mildly reading the newspaper, specifically searching for mentions of Dumbledore or Harry P-

_ Sirius Black _ . The name hit her like the Whomping Willow, and she blinked, looking around the Great Hall. She’d heard that name before, she should know that name. Maybe. It sounded like a British pureblood’s name. Wasn’t there a specific bloodline that named themselves after stars and constellations?  _ Pricks. Now, who thought me this name? Who was it..? _

Someone took a seat on her other side, but she didn’t care who it was until, without so much as a good morning, he said, “Did you really transfer to Hogwarts because you were bored?”

Nott waited for her to finish chewing, which she did, and then replied, “What does it matter?”

“A great deal,” Nott slid the platter with toast on it over to his side, and Lian passed him the jam before he’d even bothered to look for it. His blue eyes met hers for a brief interval, looking both suspicious and intrigued. “Because if you came here for another reason that is presently being concealed, that would explain why the Hat felt the need to put you into this House. But, if the rumors are true and you were just that one presumptuous and-” he drew air quotes with his fingers, “-’bored’ American student, then you’re not really a threat.”

Lian watched him butter his toast and then add liberal amounts of jam. “Why does it have to be either/or? Why can’t I just be a regular transfer student who’s looking to further and enrich her education?”

“If that were true, you’d be in Ravenclaw and not entertaining this conversation.” His reply was quick, as if he’d come to that conclusion long before he’d decided to talk to her. 

“Are you saying that students can’t care about their education unless they’re in Ravenclaw House?”

“No.”

“Well then, what are you saying? What do you think I am?”

He stared at her so long that she had almost finished her scrambled eggs before he spoke again. “Anything but what you appear to be.”

“Oh good. From what I understand, and with that classification, I should fit right in.” she replied briskly. Looking around, she caught Parkinson smirking over at them. “What’s got you all tickled?”

“It’s just...I’ve never seen Nott banter with anyone before.” she tittered. “You’re right--you should fit in here.” 

Nott jabbed the butter knife in Parkinson’s direction. “That was not bantering! That was...an inquisition.”

“Whatever you call it, you’ve never inquisitioned anyone before.” 

“I’m going to head to Charms,” Nott said, grabbing his bag and standing up. 

“No you’re not,” Greengrass shoved a bowl of cereal at him. “You haven’t finished breakfast. Sit down and take the embarrassment like a man.” 

“Yeah! Wait-” Lian looked from Greengrass to Parkinson. “-is this you accepting me?”

They shrugged. “Publicly, sure.”

“What does that mean?”

Bulstrode chipped in for that one. “The other houses hate us. It’s almost tradition at this point.”

“But what about your singing hat?” Lian gestured to where it had been the previous night. “It wouldn’t shut up about joining together for five minutes, or didn’t anyone else listen?”

“You should talk,” Parkinson piped up. “You made yourself deaf while that Ministry witch was preaching, don’t think no one noticed. I almost followed your example!”

“What stopped you?”

“I couldn’t think of the spell.” she snapped. “And I couldn’t ask you what it was either because well...you couldn’t hear me.”

Lian sniggered. She couldn’t help it, and she was eventually followed by Nott and Bulstrode. Greengrass displayed more class and merely covered her mouth with her hand. 

“Okay. Now we can head to Charms.” said Pansy with a straight face.

When the entered the classroom, it was to find a very small wizard standing on a pile of books near the desk. Lian wondered if he had elvish descent as she found a seat in the back corner. She didn’t expect anyone to sit with her and was therefore very surprised when the Inquisition took the seat beside her. 

“Five minutes til we begin,” the professor squeaked.  _ Definitely part elf. _ She took out a roll of parchment, inkwell and her favorite quill, and set to work. She could feel her next chair neighbor watching her, observing her, wondering what she was doing, both with her quill and at the school. 

“Shut up,” she told him, not looking away from her writing. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Nott said defensively. 

“You’re thinking too loudly.”

“I’m what-?”

“Settle down!” Professor Flitwick called. Lian sighed inwardly,  _ saved by the squeak. _ “Welcome back, I hope you all did your summer reading in preparation for Fifth Year. As well you know, at the end of the year you will be taking your Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations, which will be more thorough than any test you have ever seen before!” he squeaked, trying to sound severe and failing miserably. “Except perhaps for our new student, Miss Kowalski.”

Lian looked up from her parchment, to find that everyone had turned to look at her. Professor Flitwick was smiling but the others looked either bewildered or snide. Malfoy was sneering at her from where he sat behind his security team. “Excuse me?”

“The transferring process was quite grievous as I understand it,” stated Professor Flitwick, nodding as though they shared a secret. Which they didn’t. Lian would remember having a member of the Lollipop guild as a confidant. “I daresay it prepared you well for what is to come; but!” he turned back to the class at large. Or, you know, as much as he could. “Mustn’t let your guards down. Now then, if you’ll all move away from the tables, today we will be reviewing what you know and what needs to be improved.”

There was a clatter and a few scrapes as they all stood, moving out of the way as Professor Flitwick waved his wand, and the desks and chairs leaped to the sides of the room, stacking neatly atop one another. Lian, rolling up her parchment as she stuck her quill behind her ear, glanced around at the newly open space.  _ What kind of charms don’t they know how to do? _

“We’ll be reviewing Summoning Charms today! Everyone stand in a large circle, that’s it!” As he spoke, a large stack of books landed in the center of their circle. “Now, the goal for this exercise is to summon one of the books, without upsetting the entire tower. You may summon any of them, except for the top. Professor Flitwick instructed. “Any questions? Well then, Mr. Zabini, you start.”

The aristocrat looked slightly startled to be called upon, but raised his wand nonetheless. “ _ Accio book!”  _ The volume the third down from the top freed itself from the tower and zoomed into Zabini’s hands. The tower of books wiggled but stayed upright. Beside him, Bulstrode raised her wand.

“ _ Accio book!” _ The sixth from the bottom shot towards her and she caught it deftly. Again, the tower wobbled, more so this time. 

Lian, who was next, paused to look towards the little professor. “May I ask what happens if we upset the tower?”

“Excellent question,” he praised. “If the tower falls over, you’ll have to start again.”

Lian withdrew her wand and pointed it at the leaning tower of learning, taking a deep breath to center her mind. She realized that British students, and most other nations practiced magic verbally, but to do so now would only throw off her skill.  _ Fifth year charmwork, should include a revision in Levitation...hopefully I don’t get in trouble for this because I think it’s clever. _

She raised her wand, which was carved from base to tip with patterns, aimed carefully, and cast two spells in rapid succession.  _ Wingardium Leviosa! Accio! _

The top half of the structure rose up into the air, long enough for the center volume to  soar into her arms, before the top half dropped neatly back into place. There was no wobble. Which would have continued to be impressive, except Crabbe was next and botched the spell completely. After they dug Professor Flitwick out of the bookslide, he hazily assigned everyone practice homework on Summoning Charms. And also gave Crabbe extra work. Shortly after replacing the desks and chairs, the bell rang, indicating the end of the period.

 

“This is your first class with the Gryffindors, so we’ll point out the twatts for you,” Pansy was saying as they queued outside of the Potions classroom. Lian wondered if very many students other than Slytherins knew that the snake den itself was only a few corridors over. “Oh wait,” Pansy’s snide tone brought her back to the present. “They’re all twatts. My work here is done.” The girl smirked, hands on her hips as she leered over the students with red and gold crests on their robes. One of them, a girl with a lion’s mane of brown hair, shot Pansy a look of loathing.

“Better to be a twatt than a pile of dragon dung.” she retorted. Beside her stood a boy with burnt orange hair and a boy with unkempt black hair--who wasn’t really paying attention. He was in his own little world, convincing himself that some girl in Ravenclaw might have a crush on him. It was sort of pathetic, Lian negated looking through his mind straightaway. 

Meeting the indignant glare of the lioness, Lian spoke in an innocent voice. “Is it? I thought dragon dung was a crucial fertilizer in Herbology, whereas the slang term ‘twatt’ is another word for idiot.” She shrugged. “I mean, to each their own, but personally I’d rather be useful than slow.” The girl opened her mouth, red faced and ready to argue, but she was interrupted by an ominous creaking noise as the classroom door opened. Lian held up a single finger to the Gryffindor girl. “Hold that thought, if you can.”

The Gryffindors crowded the back of the classroom instantly, leaving the Slytherins to fill in the front tables, which they did without complaint. Lian found a seat somewhere in the middle, behind Pansy, Bulstrode  and Greengrass, and directly in front of the three from before. She could practically feel the glare from the lioness searing the little hairs on the back of her neck. As for herself, two Gryffindor boys reluctantly took the only remaining seats beside her. She gave them both a small smile, to which they responded by frowning at her.

”Settle down,” said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him. There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen.  
“Before we begin today’s lesson,” said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, “I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ‘acceptable’ in your OWL, or suffer my….” he took an unrealistically long time to finish his thought, in Lian’s opinion. “. . .displeasure.”  
He glared at someone sitting in the corner, and a quick over-the-shoulder glance revealed it to be a round-faced Gryffindor boy. He looked like he was trying not to puke.  
“After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me,” Snape went on. “I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.”   
His eyes roved over the majority of the Gryffindor students, his lip curling slightly. Lian remembered one of the Slytherins mentioning that he looked out for his students, but apparently in that line he also treated the other Houses like vermin.   
“But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell,” said Snape softly, “so whether you are intending to attempt NEWT or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students.  
“Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation.” He continued speaking, but Lian became distracted with trying to catch hold of his thoughts. A single one, or just an emotion, Just give me proof that you’ve got a brain in there and- ahh. She’d caught something, though she wasn’t entirely sure what it was or how it helped her.   
”The ingredients and method” -- Snape flicked his wand -- “are on the blackboard” --(they appeared there)-- “you will find everything you need” --he flicked his wand again-- “in the store cupboard” --(the door of the said cupboard sprang open)-- “you have an hour and a half. . . Start.”  
Lian raised her wand to summon the ingredients, confused as to why everyone was walking to the cupboard like they were No-Majs, when Pansy hissed, “We’re not allowed to use wands in class!”

_ Dang it. _ With a sigh, Lian gathered the ingredients by hand, and set to work on the potion. It was a dizzyingly complicated potion, which was probably the point. The steps had to be followed to the letter, nay, to the punctuation, or the whole thing would be thrown off. She’d just completed the fifth step and was moving onto the sixth when her next-cauldron neighbor’s potion began to sizzle, like he was cooking bacon. It didn’t smell like bacon though, and Lian wrinkled her nose in disgust. 

”A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion,” called Snape, with ten minutes left to go. Lian glanced over the edge of her cauldron apprehensively. A vapor was rising alright, but it was more blue than it was silver. Maybe she’d forgotten to stir it correctly on step three. Looking around at the others and their works, she felt a little bit better about her results. Sure, it could have a perfectly silver vapor drifting upwards like the lioness’, Malfoys’, and Greengrass’, but at least it hadn’t exploded in her face like her neighbors. At least it wasn’t releasing a thick black cloud like the spectacled boy’s was, or experiencing a small firework display and smelling of sick. 

Zabini was cursing at his cauldron in Italian, but Lian decided it was best to not stare. Especially when Professor Snape made it around to the cauldron that was fuming smoke behind her. “Potter,” he began, signaling to the rest of the classroom that he was about to give the boy a failing grade. “What is this?”

“The Draught of Peace,” came the cold reply. Lian gave him a skeptical look over her shoulder, but was met by the lioness again, who glared at her.  _ Jeez, what is with the animosity over here?  _ Professor Snape proceeded to reveal to the boy, Potter, why and how he was wrong, in a very roundabout, almost showboating manner. It was very important to Snape that Potter feel thoroughly humiliated. Some of the Slytherins made a point to show how funny they thought it was, but not all of them.

Zabini was still cursing quietly; Nott was already scooping a sample of his finished potion to turn in for grading, pointedly ignoring the rest of the class. Greengrass appeared to be focusing on her nails, and Bulstrode just looked bored. No, the real mockers boiled down to Malfoy, his security team, and Pansy--and the latter just seemed forced.

A few awkward moments later and Snape was assigning them their homework. After depositing a sample of their potion on his desk, labelled with their names, the class departed from the dark classroom. Potter and his friends were the first ones out, and by the time the rest of them reached the corridor, they were nowhere in sight. 


	5. Interpret This!

“Lunch?” Lian blanched. “We’ve only had two classes.” She walked with Pansy and Greengrass to the Great Hall, in the wake of Malfoy who was mocking the Gryffindors and their failures loudly. 

“The latter of which was a double period,” Greengrass explained. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Lian shook her head. “My body’s clock is all over the place. Back home I’d be waking up around now. It feels like I stayed up all night. There’s a very good chance I’ll fall asleep in one of my afternoon classes.”

They found seats at the Slytherin table and began to serve themselves. “What classes have you got later?” Pansy asked, spooning liberal amounts of salad onto her plate.

“Divination next, then Transfiguration and History of Magic.” Lian recited, grabbing a second sandwich after she inhaled the first one.

“What the hell are you taking Divination for? Everyone knows it’s rubbish!” Bulstrode sneered. 

“I know it is and you know it is, but there are people who believe otherwise so in the meantime, I’ll snag an extra grade by making crap up. Zabini, be a lamb and pass the mustard.” Zabini gave her a sidelong glare and only reluctantly handed her the condiment, his face an expression of distaste. Lian bowed her head gravely in his direction. “The entire House of Kowalski thanks the House of Zabini for your sacrifice.” she said seriously. 

Pansy laughed, but was drowned out by the arrival of Malfoy, who finally settled down from his derogatory impressions of the Gryffindors. “That Charms lesson was rubbish,” He declared, while everyone else continued to eat. “It was as if he made the whole thing up ten seconds after he started the lesson.”  
“That lecture was a waste of breath, as if we don’t know or understand why this year’s going to be harder than the rest.” Zabini put in, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. “We’re not idiots, like the rest of our year.”  
“Well, most of us, anyway,” added Pansy, her gaze resting on Crabbe and Goyle, who were finishing off an entire roast chicken a piece.   
Lian waited with baited breath for one of them to accuse her of cheating, or ask her about non-verbal magic, but it never came. They moved on from complaining about Charms, instead falling back on  mocking the Gryffindors; which was so well timed, Lian knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d had years of practice. She wouldn’t be surprised if one of them composed a song about it one of these days.  
“Did you see what Weasley did to his potion?” Greengrass prompted, causing them all to laugh. “I don’t think he can afford to use proper measuring tools: his proportions were completely wrong. In the end it looked like an Irish firework display.” she nudged Lian with her shoulder. “Right?”  
Lian, who was moments from leaving early, looked up to find them all watching her. She knew a test when she saw one. Without hesitating, she replied, “At least he didn’t forget to add the helibore.”  
Malfoy howled with laughter, as the reminder of Potter’s failure was brought to light. Lian watched him, curious to his behavior. Personally, she didn’t find pleasure in others failure--having failed many times herself. As she observed him, her eyes fell out of focus and the table, her sandwich, the students enjoying their lunch period and the Great Hall all fell away.   
_She watched a small boy wandering an enormous house all by himself. She saw him watch an older man with long white hair abuse and kick around house elves. He wanted that man’s approval, because the alternative would be much worse than a few bruises. He found comfort in the arms of an angelic woman, with soft hands and a kind smile. She never showed that smile much, unless they were alone. He listened to the older man talk about the facts of life. Muggles were less than dirt. Mudbloods were people who stole magic from decent wizards. The Purer your blood was, the better you were inherently. Draco, you are borne of the Purest blood. Draco, you are a Malfoy, you are the best. Draco, you are better than Potter. Draco, you have to do better in school than that Mudblood. Draco, you are disappointing me….You disappoint the Da-_ _  
_ “What are you looking at, Kowalski?” a voice drawled into her ears, pulling her back from his memories. Draco Malfoy was glaring at her, his grey eyes growing dark like the clouds outside. _Your soul,_ but Lian thought it better to not say that. 

“I was lost in thought,” she replied honestly. “Didn’t mean to stare.” Glancing at her watch, she saw that she still had forty minutes before she was due in Divination. “Anyone know where North Tower is?”

“It’s on the seventh floor off the grand staircase,” Nott answered, barely looking up from a novel he was perusing. Tilting her head to look at the title, she realized that it wasn’t a novel, it was the latest edition of ‘ _ Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’  _ by Newton Scamander. “Just climb the spiral staircase until you find the trapdoor on the ceiling.”

“Why are you smiling?” Greengrass asked Lian, poking her cheek. 

“I get to explore the castle, why wouldn’t I be smiling?” she grabbed her bag and got to her feet. “See you all in Transfiguration.” Feeling suddenly cheeky, she winked broadly at Zabini, who blushed despite himself. She’d long realized that he was only tolerating her despite his pride, actually  _ because _ of his pride, because she knew one of his many secrets. If she really tried, she could learn them all, but that wasn’t to her benefit, presently. 

Once out of the Great Hall, she considered summoning her broom and going for another ride--but the heavy rainpour outside somewhat diminished the thought. Perhaps she could fly through the hallways as she had this morning, but she wasn’t keen on earning a detention this early in the term. 

_ Later,  _ she promised herself. The same boy who’d been picked on in potions, Potter, shoved his way past her and took the marble staircase two at a time. She could sense his anger coming off of him in tidal waves, turning her own emotions into a ball of anxiety. Frowning, focusing her mind, she charged after him. He seemed to be headed the same way, not caring who he came across, it was as though his legs were on autodrive. 

A short while later, she was panting, he was still fuming for undiscovered reasons, and they were both camped out beneath the trapdoor that Theo had described. 

“Not that it’s any of my business,” Lian started, after finally catching her breath. Potter looked around at her in surprise, as if he hadn’t realized she was there. “But what’s got you all worked up? You couldn’t be angrier if I’d just broken your broom.”

He was hesitant to answer her, she could see that in his eyes. He checked her crest, her eyes, which were wide and curious, saw that she was alone, but remained wary of her all the same. At length, he finally said, “Weren’t you in Double Potions?”

“Not really what I asked, but yeah.” 

“You’re a Slytherin.”

“You’re a sharp one.” she said sarcastically.

“Why do you care? Why even bother talking to me?”

Lian gave a huge sigh. “Whatever beef you have with my new housemates, please don’t fabricate any with me; I’d rather not taunt you, as I’ve no real reason to do so.” She continued on, still seeing and sensing his hesitation to speak to her like a human being. “So I was sorted into Slytherin House--so what? I’m a little more sly than you are? I’m a little more inclined to chase after my ambitions? But if you think for one second that you’re braver than I am then you need to check your ego at the door because you’re no better than me.”

He blinked several times before answering. “I’m...sorry. I didn’t mean for you to think any of that...I just...start again?”

“Absolutely. Hello angsty individual, my name’s Lian Kowalski.”

He shook her proffered hand with a rueful expression bleeding through the stunned one. “Hello Lian, my name’s Harry Potter.”

“There now, was that so hard?” she laughed, glancing around as more students began to scale the spiral staircase beneath them. “Do you like Divination?”

“No.” he didn’t have to think about that one.

“Me neither. I just signed for it because this curriculum at Hogwarts is missing my favorite class, and I had to sign on for a certain amount in order to be admitted.”

“What class?” 

“Alchemy. It’s like if Potions and Transfiguration had a child. I loved it, but the class was very advanced and rather selective about the students they allowed to take it. I suppose Dumbledore wasn’t keen on having a tricky subject like that in his school.” she explained, finishing in time to watch a rope ladder descend from the trap door on high.

“Well, I hope you’re ready to meet Professor Trelawney.” said Harry, reaching to climb up first. 

“Why, is she bad?”

“You’ll see.” And see, Lian certainly did. Once her head popped up into the tower room, she was met with a cloud of incense and heavy perfumes. She did what any normal human with the standard requirement to breathe would do, and coughed her way to the nearest cushioned chair. The air was thick with sickly sweet scents and heat from a fireplace behind the desk. There was no sign of the teacher as of yet, so Lian turned to speak to her new friend, only to find that the boy with red hair was blocking her way. 

“Hermione and me have stopped arguing,” he said, sitting down beside Harry.

“Good,” grunted Harry.

“But Hermione says she thinks it would be nice if you stopped taking out your temper on us,” said the other boy.

“I’m not-”

“I’m just passing on the message,” said Ron, talking over him.  Lian craned her neck to watch Harry glower at his friend in annoyance.  “But I reckon she’s right. It’s not our fault how Seamus and Snape treat you.”

“I never said it-”  Harry was forced to stop talking as the closest human incarnation of an insect drifted into the room. Lian actually leaned away from where it walked to reach the front of the class. The woman wore a busy shawl draped elegantly about her shoulders, wore huge magnifying glasses that made her eyes about three times their normal size. Around her neck and wrists she had so many bangles and beads that she sounded like rain in the jungle whenever she moved. 

“Good day,” said Professor Trelawney  in a floaty, dreamy kind of way. It was the voice Lian anticipated a cloud to use if they could talk.  “And welcome back to Divination. I have, of course, been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays, and am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely--as, of course, I knew you would.” She turned her enormous eyes on Lian, who wished she could just melt into the armchair. “I foresaw your arrival among our ranks as well. It was written in the stars that you would walk these shadowed halls.”

Lian grimaced. “Oh good. I’m all about following the stars.”

Professor Trelawney tilted her head towards her. “Indeed.” then, turning to the class again, she continued.  “You will find on the tables before you copies of  _ The Dream Oracle _ , by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and one that may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not, of course, that I believe examination passe or failures are of the remotest importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, certificates and grades matter very little. However, the headmaster likes you to sit the examination, so…”

Her voice trailed away delicately, leaving them all in no doubt that Professor Trelawney considered her subject above such sordid matters as examinations.

“Turn, please, to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on the matter of dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use  _ The Dream Oracle _ to interpret each other’s most recent dreams. Carry on.”

Lian turned to the book and began to peruse the pages at top speed. The heated room was making her feel dizzy and it wouldn’t be long before she was inclined to sleep, which, if took place as predicted, would also result in her suffocation and death. Luckily for her, the class was short enough to when they all finished the assigned reading, only a few minutes remained till the end of the period. At the table beside her, the redhead and Harry were hesitating on discussing their dreams. Knowing that no one else was likely to pair with her, she moved to join them, plopping herself on an overstuffed pouf between them.

“Since neither of you want to share, how about you interpret  _ my _ dream, or at least pretend. I really don’t care at this juncture.” she nodded at the redheaded boy who, judging by his emotions, wanted to use very rude language in an effort to chase her away. “And you can call me Lian instead of that nasty word you were just thinking.” She turned her back on him and spoke directly to Harry while the other boy spluttered to recover. “Last night, when I was sleeping, I dreamed that all the hats in the castle started to sing  _ Hat 2 da Back.  _ Interpret that.”

A hint of a grin touched Harry’s confused face. “Isn’t that a muggle song?”

Lian nodded, raising her eyebrows in earnest. “That’s what threw me off. You know, other than the singing hats. No idea where that came from.”

“Why would a Slytherin listen to muggle music?” the redheaded boy finally spoke up.

“Maybe because she had a life before she came to Hogwarts. Maybe because she’s the same person she was before she entered the castle,” Lian turned back on him, feeling her own emotions begin to boil.  _ Not good! Calm like a pool, reflective not offensive!  _ She took a deep breath to anchor herself again before she finished. “Maybe because you need to stop seeing the House as a person and start seeing the person in the House.”

“How would you know what I think?”

“I probably know what you think before you do. Are you going to interpret my dream, or-” 

The bell rang, cutting their argumentative conversation off. Lian was among the first to escape down the silver ladder, and led the charge descending the spiral staircase.  _ Stupid. First day and already you’ve let yourself get on that soapbox. What is the matter with this school?  _


	6. Secrets? Really, You want to Go There?

“There you are, Kowalski,” Lian thought that was a strange way to greet someone who nearly got run over by a bodyguard. She jumped back from Goyle’s warpath and spoke to Malfoy.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Not particularly, but it’s just as well you know so you don’t lose us all House points.” said Malfoy, in a voice that communicated that he would hold her responsible for any House points lost this year.  _ Rightly so, I suppose.  _ “There’s been an error in our schedules. Instead of having Transfiguration, we move straight into History of Magic. This way,” he strode past her in the opposite direction, back straight and shoulders back as though it was important to look impressive and intimidating at all times. Feeling impish, Lian imitated the way he walked in excess exaggeration. 

Learning about the British History of Magic was about as dull as she’d expected, and it didn’t help that it was being taught to them by a dead man. Professor Binns could have been as ancient as some of his subjects, but apparently his goal in death was the same as it had been in life: to lecture everyone else to death. Instead of dozing off, like her brain desperately wished for her to do, she started writing up the essay Snape had assigned that morning.  _ The properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making…  _ All the while, she’d set aside a notebook and a Quik-Notes-Quill to follow the lecture about the giant wars. By the time Binns had wrapped up his lesson and assigned them a detailed essay on said wars, she’d finished her Potions homework and had excellent notes on her next target. 

Upon entering the Great Hall for dinner, Lian knew something was off. Everyone was whispering at their tables and as she took a seat near a couple of seventh year Slytherins, Lian realized why.

“Potter blew up at Umbridge…”

“Says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered…

“Dueled with You-Know-Who…”

“There’s no way that’s true…”

“Absolutely not…”

“He’s off his rocker…”

“Well, we all knew that already…”

When Pansy sat beside her, if only to sit across from Malfoy, Lian elbowed her side. “What?”

“Who is Cedric Diggory?” asked Lian, reaching for the yorkshire pudding. 

Pansy hesitated, then explained to her in an undertone. “He was a seventh year Hufflepuff boy last year, really handsome, you know; anyway, Hogwarts hosted the Triwizard Tournament last year and he was Hogwarts’ Champion. Potter cheated his way into becoming a fourth champion and well...long story short, at the end of the third task, Potter came staggering out of it clutching Diggory’s body. He had all sorts of lies about how it happened, but no one believed it then, and no one believes it now.”

“What sort of stuff did he claim?” Lian asked after a pause, glancing over her shoulder at the Gryffindor table. Harry was keeping his head down, but it wasn’t like he could simply ignore what everyone was talking about. When Pansy didn’t reply, she looked around and saw that both Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott were glaring at them. Pansy had returned to her plate, nibbling while avoiding eye contact with anyone.  _ Okay. Touchy subject.  _ “I guess it doesn’t matter, if all they were was lies.” she amended. 

Rain pounded on the windows relentlessly, indicating that it was going to be a terrible evening spent indoors. After the day she’d just survived, Lian itched to ride her broom again. Movement near the door caught her eye and she saw Harry leaving the Hall, followed closely by the redhead and the lioness. She put down her fork and shouldered her bag.

“Where are you going?” asked Greengrass from the other side of Pansy. 

“I’m not that hungry.” she answered vaguely, standing up and stalking away from the table. No one tried to stop her, but she felt a few lingering gazes on her back until she’d left their sight. At a guess, she took off up the magical staircase until she spotted that mane of brown curls whipping around a corner. Sprinting down the corridor, she managed to catch the three of them before they reached their common room. At the end of the hall she spied a large portrait of an obese woman in a fancy dress.  _ Focus, Lian! _

Harry had stopped to look at her, eyebrows raised, while his friends, in their own right, looked wary. Lian steeled herself, perfectly aware that she was likely to get a hostile reaction to chasing them down. “I wanted,” she aimed her words at the lioness, “to apologize for how I spoke to you earlier today.” It was worth saying just to see the reaction on her face. From disbelief to befuddlement, she stared back at Lian in stunned silence. Turning to the redhead, she went, “I’m not sorry for what I said to you, but perhaps in the manner it was delivered. I don’t even know your names.” The continued to stare at her, as if she was speaking in tongues. “I just...no hard feelings, okay?”

She shuffled backwards, not breaking eye contact until she began to turn around when the lioness snapped out of her momentary stupor. “Thank you. It’s Julianne, isn’t it?” Lian rounded on her, eyebrows joining together at the mention of her long name. “Julianne Kowalski?”

“Just Lian will do,” she clarified quickly, before the other one could stick. 

The lioness nodded in understanding. “I’m Hermione Granger.”

The redhead jumped in, as if realizing that it was okay to speak then. “Ron Weasley.” Lian smiled at them both, then looked back at Harry.

“Now that we’re at a truce, could you try to explain just one thing for me?” They nodded, Hermione rather sagely, Ron hesitated first and Harry bobbed his head. “Great. Why does everyone hate Slytherin? I mean, they’re not terrible people--some of them are irritating I grant you but seriously who isn’t at our age?”

Surprisingly it was Ron who answered her. “Other than it being the House that produces evil wizards and witches, it’s almost tradition going back to the original founders.”

Lian used a word that would earn her detention, and in front of two prefects too. “Sorry, but that’s absolute bull--er, it’s a complete fallacy. So a few dark sorcerers were from Slytherin, don’t try to tell me that a few dark magic lovers didn’t come from the other houses as well. Evil comes in every species.”

“The entire house looks down on people like me,” Hermione put in, watching Lian carefully. A glance was all Lian needed to see the tears this lioness had shed from the relentless bullying she’d endured from the group she was currently growing chummy with. “Muggleborns.” she expounded unnecessarily.

“So? For longer than I care to count, any relations with No-Majs in America was forbidden. Some families still carry those traditions on their backs, teaching their children while they don’t know any better.” Lian countered, keeping her body language as neutral as possible.  _ Do not cross your arms, do not place your hands on your hips, do not cock your head to the side, do not raise your voice.... _

Hermione took a deep breath. “I would love to continue this debate; but we have homework to do.”

“Of course. I’ve got a giant war to scribe. Which way is the library?”

That got the other girls’ attention. “I can show you.” She took off, back down the corridor, Lian right behind her, while they abandoned the boys near the portrait of the obese woman.

  
  


Lian arrived back in the Slytherin common room right before curfew, so she had the honor of running into Malfoy and Pansy as they left for their prefect rounds. Malfoy only curled his lip at her before pushing past her, but Pansy halted a moment, a very cross expression gracing her features. “There you are,” she shoved folded note under Lian’s nose. “Professor Snape asked us to give this to you when he couldn’t locate you earlier.” Still unexplainably cross, she stormed after Malfoy, leaving Lian bewildered with the note. 

“Kowalski. A word,” Zabini called from his throne by the fireplace. Shoving the note away in her pocket, Lian approached what appeared to be a small court comprised of the remaining students in her year, plus a couple of older students as well. A seventh year girl seated nearest Zabini was holding an old newspaper in her lap, and her hooded eyes followed Lians every move.

“What is happening right now?” Lian breathed, trying to understand the jumble of general disgust and even hate she was gleaning from the majority of her Housemates.  _ Seriously? I’ve only been here a day! What could I have possibly done thus far to piss them off?  _

“You’re not what you appear to be, Kowalski.” drawled Zabini triumphantly. He looked entirely too pleased with himself. “You waltz in here, pretending you’re just like us, even better than us, but you’re not, are you?”

Lian glanced at the newspaper in the girls lap. It was yellowed from age, and the published title was  _ The New York Ghost _ . She clenched her teeth, recognizing the release date, 1934. Zabini nodded to the girl who brandished the old paper and began to read aloud. Lian could feel all eyes on her face as the article rang through her ears.

“Scandal and Shame brought to the Wizarding community earlier this week. Queenie Goldstein, ex-employee of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, has broken our highest law and married a No-Maj, by the name of Jacob Kowalski.” the girl stopped there, leering up at Lian over the edge of the article.

Zabini smiled coldly. “Those are your grandparents, aren’t they,  _ Kowalski _ ? That would make you no better than a  _ Mudblood _ .”

Lian glanced around the circle again, but Bulstrode, Greengrass, not even Nott would look at her. Everyone that did only leered at her. She took a deep breath, trying to relax her mind before speaking. “So?” It had the desired effect. They remained as leering or smug as before, but each and everyone of them stiffened a touch. “Tell me this, before you ridicule me into oblivion, what do you know about Merlin?”

There was a brief pause, but the answers came eventually. “Greatest and most powerful wizard of all time.”

“He was a Slytherin!”

“He was likely taught by Salazar himself!”

And then, inevitably, “Pureblood.” Lian pointed at the speaker, who turned out to be a sixth year. 

“No. He wasn’t. Do your research on something that matters; Merlin was a Half-blood. His mother was a No-Maj, from a long line of No-Majs, right up until humans first walked on the planet. That’s the man we all call the most powerful, the greatest; hell, the man who nearly everyone calls out to in moments of profanity. Wizard. Slytherin. Salazars’ greatest student. Half-blood. Half-blood! He looked out for those cursed to live without magic. He promoted living with No-Majs in peace. Anyone who teaches otherwise is selling something.” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t care what you think about me, or my family. But you’ve all got to wake up and realize that being related to a No-Maj doesn’t make someone weak. Or a Mudblood. If you weren’t so busy being prejudiced, you might realize that those with Non-Magical connections are a bit stronger than you’d like to admit.” She reached out and snatched the newspaper article away from the girl, shaking it threateningly around. “You might think you’ve unearthed some big secret--but if you want to start on real secrets, just. Say. The. Word.” 

Finished, she tossed the article into the fire, and left for the dormitory while they were all watching it burn. Once in the safety of her bed, the silver hangings pulled shut around her, she opened Snapes note.

“ _ Ms Kowalski,  _

_ Due to your behavior this morning, I ask that you  _

_ attend a detention with me tomorrow evening.  _

_ Please note that any such cheek will not be  _

_ tolerated in the future. Bring a pair of  _

_ dragon hide gloves. _

_ Professor Snape” _


	7. Wits and Wandless

_ Dear Mom and Dad, _

_ My first few days at Hogwarts have been quite illuminating. I was sorted into Slytherin House that first night, and for the next 24 hours, it seemed like it was a good fit.  _

Lian paused in her writing, staring across the study hall without really seeing it. If she shared what happened next, her father would throw a fit. He might come bursting through the double doors and attempt to drag her back across the Atlantic. But if she skipped anything important, her mother would know. Sighing, she turned back to her letter. 

_ Classes that first day went well, at least no one forbid me from using non-verbal magic. I think I made a friend in another House, but it was sort of hard to tell because when I returned to the Slytherin common room that night, it was to find the Junior Wizengamot waiting for me. Thinking I needed to be humbled for whatever reason, they’d dug up a rather familiar newspaper from old New York. They thought throwing Babcia’s ‘scandal’ in my face would break me, but I only grew stronger. Well, for that evening at least. I scolded them with Merlin facts and I think preached about how their ignorance would be their downfall: something along those lines. Anyway, the next morning wasn’t so much of a shock as it was insulting… _

Lian grimaced to herself, reliving that hectic second morning in her mind. She’d awoken with a start, mainly because all the blood was rushing to her head. She stared in confusion at the upside-down room, before twisting to look at what was keeping her suspended that way. Her ankle had been tied to the chandelier, which was thankfully unlit. She could still remember the feeling of panic as she scrambled to find her wand, only to come up empty. Swinging her upper-body, she managed to grab onto a rung of the light fixture, pull herself up enough to untie her leg. After which she fell and bruised her ribcage along with several other parts of her body. However long she lay there, she vaguely remembered making it back to the girl’s dormitory, dressing for classes, and still unable to locate her wand. 

Opening her suitcase, Lian had reached into the lining and withdrew what she’d referred to as her back-up plan. Tucking it inside her robes where she’d normally stow her wand, she’d set out to face the day head-on. She bent over her letter and tried to find the best way to phrase what happened next.

_ So I had to skip breakfast and run to Transfiguration so I wouldn’t be late. I still didn’t know who took my wand because you know me, I don’t lose things. It was a bad lesson to be wandless, because it was a double period and we were working on Vanishing Spells. Everyone else in the class ignored me, like I didn’t exist. I tried to vanish my snail using wandlesss magic, which of course didn’t work, and I got in trouble with Professor McGonagall for not having my wand. Yes, I suppose I could have pointed fingers and complained how it wasn’t my fault; but then again it was my big mouth that had landed me in that position, so I knew I had to rely on my wits to get me out of it. Walking from Transfiguration to Herbology was the tricky part.  _

She’d hung back to receive a detention from Professor McGonagall for not being prepared for class, and then she’d had to run in order to not be late for Herbology. Zabini had been waiting for her in the hall, an ugly smirk on his face. “Hard to attend a magical lesson when you have no magical ability, isn’t it?”

Lian pierced him in a second, holding nothing back. She saw him rallying the seventh years into taking her to that classroom late the night before. She saw him suggesting they take her wand away, ‘ _ She’s not worthy to carry a wand. _ ’ But he hadn’t kept her wand. It had been tossed around in jest so much that he’d forgotten who currently possessed it. He didn’t know anything useful. He was all talk at this point. Persuasive, but talk all the same. 

“Why are you doing this, Zabini?” she asked calmly, belying the anger within. “I’ve done nothing to you, yet.”

“I don’t trust you. If I don’t trust you, I don’t accept you. Turns out I was right, you’re bloods all muddied and disgusting. You don’t deserve to be a Slytherin.” It was as if she had not spoken the night previously at all. His tone was harsh and yet dismissive. “So stop pretending otherwise.”

Lian walked the rest of the way to Herbology in a stony silence, determined to show strength. Without her wand present, she felt violated. Luckily Herbology, though not her best subject, did not require a wand. She broke through the mental walls of her Housemates while they focused on the work Professor Sprout had set for them, ignoring the Ravenclaws altogether. Crabbe and Goyle had been involved in stringing her up in the classroom. Parkinson and Malfoy had been absent because of prefect duties, but they’d been apprised of the situation all the same. Nott hadn’t been involved, nor Greengrass or Bulstrode. But they hadn’t tried to stop it either. None of them had her wand, that she could tell. 

She withdrew from their minds and killed her self-fertilizing shrub  on accident, earning her extra homework from Professor Sprout in the end. Her stomach roared in outrage, encouraging her to be the first to lunch. 

_ I’ll be honest, I almost didn’t sit at the Slytherin table, but by the time I reached the Great Hall I was too hungry to care. Don’t worry mom, the house elves here don’t hold a candle to your cooking, but I was so desperate at that point even tofu would’ve sounded like a good idea. While I stuffed myself like a proper American, I tried to read the students around me to see who had my wand. No such luck, but I had a clue to who might know where it was. Graham Montague is the Quidditch Captain, and even if he wasn’t currently holding my wand on his person, he had it at one point the night before.  _

Lian watched Montague leave the table, still eating the remaining half of his sandwich, tossing his bookbag over his shoulder. She got to her feet and followed after him casually but briskly, and when they were both in the Entrance Hall, she tackled him. He yelled in surprise, throwing her off as fast as he could manage. 

“Are you crazy!?” he cried, straightening his robes, looking down at her in distaste. “You could get mud all over me!”

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Lian waved her hands placatingly, twirling his wand between her fingers. 

“Wait a--” he checked his inner pocket, now vacant due to Lians nimble fingers. “Give that back!” he lunged at her, trying to grab his wand.

Lian pointed the wand at its owner,  _ Protego! _ And watched as Montague bounced off the barrier she’d summoned. “If you want it returned, find mine and bring it to me. You’ve got double Charms next, don’t you?” She smiled. “You might miss this.”

“Give it back to me, now.” he growled. Lian pretended to consider it, then shook her head. Turning her back on him, she marched outside, headed to Care of Magical Creatures. 

_ So then I thought, why stop there? I’ll get mine back quicker if I take everyone else’s wand. I at least know how to handle myself without one--but all these stuck up purebloods won’t stand a chance! (and while I realize that not all of them are completely purebloods, they act and live like they are so its all the same on some level.) So during that next lesson, while everyone was paying attention...I practiced Summoning Charms. _

Professor Grubbly-Plank held class about ten yards from a strange wooden cabin on the edge of the forest. The place looked vacant, presently, but also very lived in. Lian wondered who lived there, when it had been occupied. The woman stood with a long trestle table in front of her, covered in twigs. Upon closer inspection, Lian realized immediately what they were. She turned in time to see Harry and company approaching. For some reason, Harry and Ross looked disgruntled. When they were close enough, Lian blurted out what she read from them, “You miss the old teacher?”

Harry blinked at her in amazement, something she was very familiar with at this point. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” she replied airly, glaring over his shoulder at the Slytherins as they came down from the castle. They were sniggering at something Malfoy had just said, and as they gathered around the table, opposite where the Gryffindors and Lian stood,  they kept glancing at her. Or Harry, she couldn’t actually distinguish. 

“Everyone here?” barked Professor Grubbly-Plank. “Let’s crack on then -- who can tell me what these things are called?”

She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Lian felt her hand rocket into the air, and kept it there until she was called upon. In her peripheral, she saw Hermione give her a strange look, before waving her own hand in the air.  _ It’s not a competition. I just love this subject more than the others, so back off. _

“Miss Kowalski?” 

_ Ha! _ “Bowtruckles,” answered Lian, smiling. “They serve as tree guardians, and are usually found in western England, southern Germany, and certain parts of Scandinavia. The trees they prefer are those whose wood is of wand quality.”

“Five points for Slytherin,” said Professor Grubbly-Plank. “ Yes, these are bowtruckles, and, as  Miss Kowalski  rightly says, they generally live in  wand trees.  Anybody know what they eat?”

“Wood lice,” said Lian at once, earning another sharp look from Hermione. “But they prefer fairy eggs, which are a bit harder to get.”

“Good girl, take another five points. So whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you’d like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle -- I have enough here for one between three -- you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson.”

Lian hung back,watching as the class divided into groups of three and picked up a bowtruckle to study. Discreetly, she pointed Montague’s wand at those least likely to notice: Crabbe and Goyle.  _ Expelliarmus!  _ Two wands whizzed into her left hand, which she quickly shoved into her bag before anyone noticed. 

_ Mom, I know what you’re thinking, why didn’t I just summon my wand using the one I’d already stolen? Well, after the wake-up call I experienced, I only desired the satisfaction of them handing it back to me. So while everyone was sketching and ignoring me, I practiced my disarming technique on my Housemates. Can you believe no one noticed? I guess they’re all used to an attacker shouting the spells at them, as a kind of heads up. By the time my sketch was finished I had eight new wands in my bag, nine if you counted the one in my robes. I led the way to DADA, unchallenged, and once in the classroom, it was abundantly apparent that the new teacher didn’t want us to have our wands out anyway. At that point I noticed a few hands patting down pockets in confusion but no one panicked. Not when we all had to read the stimulating subject of  _ “Defensive Magical Theory” _ by Wilbert Slinkhard. Don’t bother adding this one to your book collection--unless you’ve started a shelf exclusively for BS books. This woman is all I have as far as a teacher for one of the most important subjects! This is insane and I almost wanted to complain to the Headmaster for the absence of intelligent teaching, but I had no idea where his office was and anyway I had detention with the vampire that night. (Don’t worry Mom, he’s not actually a vampire, but he’s the closest human representative for the bat species I’ve ever seen.) I was given an iron crate full of salamanders, and my job was to extract their blood without killing them--apparently in a few weeks we’ll be brewing strengthening solutions and salamander blood is required. I think Snape’s a Legillimens, or at least he uses Occlumency, because he’s the only one in this school who I can’t get a memory or emotion out of--which of course I had to repress as well. It was different, instead of reaching into another mind, I had to block my own. Even the salamanders sensed the mental tension, and I think they felt awkward. After what felt like a thousand years, I was permitted to leave. Then I had to face the Slytherin common room again, and I think you’ll recall how well that went over the previous evening. Don’t worry though, I had at least two back-up plans. One in my robes and the other well hidden. _

“ **Might is right,** ” Lian muttered. She was exhausted, but wasn’t foolish enough to think that she could simply go to bed. Walking into the greenlit common room, she saw that she was correct. Everyone in her year and Montague was lying in wait for her. Crabbe and Goyle grabbed each of her arms and pushed her forward as though she were a criminal.

“Search her!” Montague growled. 

“I’d rather not get mud on my hands,” Zabini sneered. Greengrass rolled her eyes behind his back and stepped forward, checking Lians pockets and turning over her bag. Books and quills fell everywhere, but no wands to be found. 

“Where are our wands, Kowalski!?” Malfoy snapped. His white blond hair looked like he’d been running his hands through it over and over again. It now had random strands falling in his face. Lian ignored his question.

“Any progress on returning my wand, Montague? You’ve had all afternoon.” she gazed steadily at the Quidditch captain, not blinking. She knew that some people were uncomfortable when someone didn’t blink at them, and she had a feeling that Montague was one of those people. “In case you’ve forgotten what it looks like: pine wood, with a thunderbird feather core, 14 inches. Made by Shikoba Wolfe, rest his soul.”

Nott, who so far had been hanging in the background, hands in his pockets, came forward. “Let her go.”

“What?” Zabini snapped. “No way!”

“She’s not going to surrender to you, and she really hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re just being a prat, and we’re letting you.” Nott removed his hands and reached to pick up Lians fallen books, replacing them in her bag. “So she’s got a muggle for a grandfather. Plenty of Slytherins have muggles in their heritage. You just don’t like her, and you’re using her grandfather as a scapegoat.”

“I’d never have pegged you for a mudblood lover, Nott,” said Malfoy coldly. 

“She’s not a mudblood!” Bulstrode spoke up suddenly. “She’s got magical parents, magical ancestors, same as you, Draco.”

Lian thought of a million things to say, but her instincts told her to shut up for once. Her heart swelled even further when Greengrass piped up. “This whole thing is stupid. You stole her wand first--like those muggleborns in the stories they used to tell us. How they don’t really have magic but they steal it from actual wizards. That’s how you’ve been acting, Blaise; like a jealous muggle.”

It was Parkinson who tipped the scales. “I concur with Daphne.” She flinched when Malfoy rounded on her, his fists clenching and unclenching. “I’m sorry but she’s right.” Speaking to the mounds of flesh holding Lian captive, she said, “Let her go, boys.”

Outnumbered, if you counted Bulstrode as two people, the stubbornly stuck up boys curled their lips, backing away from them. The meatheads even released Lians arms, and she felt the blood rush back into her fingertips. Malfoy attempted to have the last word though, “I want my wand returned by midnight, Kowalski.”

“Right back atcha.” Lian quipped, rubbing her arms. Malfoy glared at her briefly, then retreated to the boys dormitories, followed by Zabini and the rest. There was a stretch of silence, one that Lian eventually broke. “So are they getting it or..?”

“They might consider it,” said Nott, who was smirking for some reason. “They hid it in the last place you’d look; with Crabbe.”

“Great. He probably sat on it at some point and it turned to dust almost at once.” Lian took her bag back from him, her voice heavy with resignation. 

Nott nodded. “He probably would have...if he’d kept a hold of it.” Lian snapped her head up to meet his gaze, not daring to hope what she was thinking was actually true. Nott, his mouth still quirked upwards on one side, withdrew a 14 inch, carved pine wood wand. It vibrated in his fingers, as though it could sense that its true master was near. 

“No…” Lian gasped, staring back at Nott in disbelief. He raised his eyebrows at her, before tucking the wand behind his ear.

“No is right. Cough up mine first.”

“And mine!” Pansy added.

“Mine too!” Millicent barked.

“Don’t forget me,” Daphne cleared her throat. 

“And then you can have it back,” Theodore finished. Lian gazed around at them in amazement. Of all the ways this day could have ended, she could not have predicted this. She let out a shaky laugh.

“Okay. Fair enough,” she ran a hand through her hair distractedly. “There’s just one little hitch.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t expect tonight to end in my favor, so I hid away the wands in a place I knew Zabini or Montague could never go…” she admitted, shifting from one foot to the other.

Cottoning on, Theodore’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

Lian nodded once. “So...it’s ten minutes past curfew, and under two hours until midnight...who wants to break into Gryffindor Tower with me?”

 

_ Needless to say, mom, its been a very full few days. I'll write the rest later. All my love to Jake and little Sera. Please don't let dad come storming into the castle. I'm fine. really. _

_ Love, _

_ Lian Q _

Looking over the huge letter, Lian nodded, satisfied. Study hall was over anyway, and she had to run to her next class. There was just one thing that needed changing. She scratched out ' _ and Dad' _ in the beginning. Maybe if he didn't read it, he wouldn't get upset. Tearing off a blank piece of parchment, she scribbled, ' _ Dear Dad, Hogwarts is amazing! Don't worry about me, I'm learning a lot and having a good time. Made a few friends and several enemies as usual. I miss you. Say hi to Babcia for me. Love, Lian Q.' _


	8. Mission Improbable

“As far as ideas go, this is a terrible one.” Pansy commented, her eyes half closed. “And I’ve listened to Goyle doing his homework.”

“I don’t know if I should laugh or be insulted.” Lian replied, tying her hair back in a clumsy knot. “It’s simple, I’m telling you. We’ll have a better shot at not getting caught this way.”

“Well,” Theodore said, reappearing from the boys’ dormitory. “That plans’ scrapped. Unless you suggest I use a Shooting Star-”

He was interrupted by Daphne who entered from the girls dorms, holding Lian’s broom in her hands like it was explosive. “It actually sparked at me when I touched it, you should’ve warned me!”

Lian looked sheepish. “Sorry. I forget not everyone knows about brooms, sometimes. That’s a Skyshatter, and it’s a bit temperamental.”

“Like its owner,” Bulstrode chuckled. Choosing not to reply, Lian faced Theodore, who was staring at her broomstick like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“I’d never ask you to fly a Shooting Star, but then, I wouldn’t ask you to fly at all, seeing how you don’t own a broom.”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Theodore frowned at her. “Who says I don’t? I just don’t have it at school--I don’t want to play Quidditch, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a decent flyer!” He tried to take the broom from her, but she was nimble enough to move away. 

“It’s my broom, and it’s my fault we need to do anything.”

“You’ve already got two detentions; if you get a third, they might consider sending you back to America.”

“So what? I’m doing this--there’s no other way!”

“Not alone!” Lian stared at the boy standing before her, not certain she’d heard him correctly. “You barely know your way around this castle on the inside--you’d be hopeless trying to take it from the outside!” Gripping the broom handle firmly, he added with a note of finality. “I’m coming with you.”

It took Lian a moment to find her voice, but before she could say much more than, ‘Fine,’ Pansy dashed into the room. Apparently, she’d slipped away without any of them noticing, and was now running towards Theodore with a sleek black broomstick in her hand. Lian recognized the model as a Nimbus 2001. “Quick! Go! I snatched it from Montague, but he’ll notice in a minute or so.”

Down the boys corridor, there was a sudden yell. “He’s noticed.” Lian said, tossing the Nimbus to Theodore before leading the way out of the common room. 

Daphne and Millicent shouted, “Don’t die!” behind them, while Pansy was practicing lies.

“Why no Graham, I haven’t seen your broom. It’s a Clean Sweep 260, right?”

 

They made it out of the dungeons without running into any obstacles. Lian would rather die than admit that having someone around who knew their way was not as cumbersome as she’d previously envisioned. Theodore was quiet down to his foot falls, but her pride and independent streak insisted that she could do all this much better on her own.Just as they had been that first morning, only 42 hours previously, the great double doors were locked. 

“Follow me,” Lian whispered, mounting her broom and taking off, rising up until her back was pressed against the ceiling. It took Theodore a good minute and a half to follow her, but he did, and she proceeded to glide forward at an almost unbearably slow pace. 

“What are we doing?” he hissed as they paused at the end of the corridor. Lian stuck her head out into the stairway, trying to target the nearest windowed floor. A ghost suddenly whooshed from the third floor to the first, spooking her enough to knock brooms with Theodore. “Watch it!”

“Sorry, sorry. If we’re closer to the ceiling, we’re less likely to get caught,” she explained in an undertone. “You’d be surprised how the last place anyone checks is up.”

“Cat.” was his reply. 

Lian looked over her shoulder at him. “Huh?” His teeth were clenched and his eyes were glued to the floor. 

“Cat.” he repeated. Looking down, Lian saw a long-haired tabby cat with amber colored eyes. It was glaring up at them from behind a suit of armor. It licked its lips, and then vanished behind a tapestry. “Move. Now!”

“It’s a cat, it’s not gonna expel us!”

“It’s a demon covered in fur, and it belongs to the crazy caretaker, who will!” Theodore pushed past her so he could hover over the stairs, then shot upwards, Lian soaring after him. He dived onto the fourth floor, stopping midway down the hall to fiddle with the window latch. 

“You weirdo, you’ve got my wand--use magic!”

“It doesn’t listen to me!”

“Then let me do it!”

“No.” he replied stubbornly. “And stop huffing like that, someone will hear you.”

“I’m breathing normally,” Lian said, glancing down the way they had just come. Someone was breathing heavily, and she could see a hint of a shadow growing longer beneath the torchlight. “Hurry up!”

“Got it!” he cried, shooting out the window on the borrowed Nimbus, her Skyshatter having no problem in keeping up. In fact, once in the open air, she accelerated and passed him like a bolt of lightning, headed for the clouds. He might have shouted her name, but with the wind in her ears, she couldn’t tell. She stopped, just short of vanishing in the clouds, and allowed herself to free fall. It was like diving without the control, and was the most freeing sensation in the world. Until Theodore caught her, that is.

“You’re mad!” he yelled, his panic influencing his volume. “Gryffindor tower’s that way! Stop laughing!”

Lian hiccuped, but did not stop giggling. “I thought we were going to get caught. I don’t even know by whom; it could have been a student who was out after hours like us. We’ll never know!”

“Oh yes we will. I recognized that huff and puff, that was Filtch. He’ll be on the alert when we start heading back, so we’ll need to be more cautious.” Theodore set her back on her broom, then steered her into a careful descent.

They circled at least three different towers before finding the right one. Lian supposed that they would have been able to recognize the owlry had it not been a dark night without the moon to shed some guidance on the grounds. In any case, they gave a certain screech owl a fright. Rising up to the window of the Gryffindor common room, Lian peeked inside, looking for someone specific. She recognized a mess of black hair, and without thinking about the consequences, she rapped on the window. She’d forgotten to take stock of whoever was sitting near the window, thus surprising a pair of twins who were sitting nearby. 

As they opened  the window, she was met with their identical faces squinting at her. “George, I don’t believe this is a school owl.” the first one remarked.

“It’s not a wild one either, Fred.” George countered, examining her face and windswept hair.

“Must be imported,” they said together.

“Right. Can one of you grab Harry or Rod?”

They exchanged a look. “Harry! There’s an American for you.” A moment later, Harry appeared at the window, his green eyes wide.

“Lian? What are you doing--what’s wrong?” He checked to see what was keeping her airborne. At the sight of her broom, he said, “Brilliant.” Then, spotting Theodore, his eyes narrowed. 

“I’ll explain later, right now we’re on the clock. I know Hermione’s a prefect and she’ll probably get all worked up over this so just don’t bother her and bring me her bag.” said Lian in a rush, wondering how long they had left until midnight. Not that it really mattered, she had her wand. But if anything, she owed Theodore, Daphne, Pansy and Millicent. Might as well get the rest off her back in the process.

“Why her bag?”

“I put something in there after dinner. She’s got so many books I knew she wouldn’t notice. I need it back now.”

“But-”

“Harry!” she snapped, and he responded in kind. He disappeared from the window, leaving her in a staring contest with the redheaded twins. After an awkward pause, one of them, Fred, maybe, spoke.

“Did you call him Rod?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah I guess.”

“Interesting.” said George with a leer. Seconds later, Harry appeared, holding up Hermione’s heavy book bag. Without preamble, Lian shoved her hand inside it, followed by her wrist and almost the full length of her forearm. 

“Now will you tell me what--Lian! Who do those belong to?” Harry stared, the twins too, as she withdrew the nine wands one by one, her knees gripping her broom as she kept balance. Ignoring Harry, she spoke to her accomplice.

“Nott, which one is yours?”

“Ash, 12 inches.” came the response from somewhere near her ankle. 

“Bombs away,” she said, just before she dropped it into his hands. “There you go! We should try out for the Quidditch team together.”

“I’ll sign up after I give the captain his broom back.” he quipped, rolling his eyes. “Lets go already!”

“Okay, okay,” she looked back at Harry and the twins, grinning wolfishly. “Thanks guys!”

“Lian wait-” Too late, she dived down parallel to the tower, Theodore at her side. They zoomed through the night air, aiming for the fourth floor corridor, but Lian knew something was wrong before they’d even reached the window. 

“It’s locked!” Theodore growled in frustration. “Now what do we do?”

“Well,” Lian began to lower herself so if anyone was on the fourth floor and decided to look at the night sky, they wouldn’t see an American on a broom blocking their way. “There’s a few options. We could dive into the lake and try to find the common room that way. OR-” she added quickly, seeing Theo’s expression. “We could smash the window by flying through it and then get caught by someone almost immediately.”

“Or?” he prompted. Lian looked off towards the forest. She spotted something flying above the treetops and felt excited. Squinting, wondering if it was a magical creature like a hippogriff, or an occamy, or a fwooper or maybe even swooping evil. Of course it was none of those things; it was an ordinary owl.  _ Wait a second. _

“The Owlry’s just open to the sky, isn’t it?” she asked casually, still staring off into the distance.

“I suppose so, how else are the owls intended to fly- ohh.” he cut himself off as the implication became clear. “Okay but if I get owl droppings on anything-”

“Keep up!” Lian cried, taking off into the night once more. 

 

Once they’d landed in the owlry, not very many owls were left to stare at them as they made their way back into the castle. “This is a serious error in the castle’s security!” Theo hissed as they made their way down the hallway towards the dungeons. “Anyone could get in. I’ll bet you anything that’s how Sirius Black was getting in a few years ago.”

Lian frowned at the name. “Okay, why do I know his name? I assume he’s British so it’s not like he’d show up on my news, but I totally recognize that name!”

“He’s a mass murderer, killed thirteen muggles and a wizard 14 years ago.” he replied, sounding evasive despite being honest. That was the number one use of Legillimency on some level, to discern without flaw if someone was lying. And he wasn’t... _ technically. _

Someone was thinking so loudly she couldn’t help but hear.  _ This time. This time I’ll catch them! _ Seizing the front of Theo’s robes, she dragged him down the corridor. “Let me go-”

“Shut up!” she whispered. They reached the entrance hall, but the shuffling, heavy breathing was almost right on top of them. 

“In here!” Theo grabbed her round the waist and moved her forcefully down a stairway off the hall she’d never seen before. At the landing he pushed her behind a tapestry of what looked like a badger and a niffler chasing each other. There was a sort of nook in the wall, but hardly big enough to fit both of them, let alone their brooms. Facing one another in the dark, Lian reached up and covered his mouth so his loud breathing wouldn’t give them away. A second later, he copied the action on her.

The shuffling, wheezing noise grew louder until the caretaker must’ve been right next to the tapestry. “Where are they, my sweet?” there was a surprisingly loud ‘ _ mrrow’ _ in reply. “I know they’re here...somewhere...little Hufflepuffs out of bed.”

Lian furrowed her eyebrows at that.  _ Why does he think we’re Hufflepuffs? _

“Come Mrs. Norris,” Filtch said to his cat. “We’ll wait near their portrait hole--they’ll have to return eventually.” he began to shuffle away, but at the edge of the tapestry, both Lian and Theo saw a cats paw reach towards their shoes. Reaching into Theo’s robes, she withdrew her wand which felt relieved to be in her grasp again. Pointing it at themselves, she cast a Disillusionment Charm. The sensation was rather like an egg cracking over their heads, allowing its yoke to sneak down their bodies.  “What’s that now, my sweet?” the caretaker said, sounding like he was just on the other side. He pulled the tapestry back, staring at the abandoned brooms hanging out in the nook. “...Lazy good for nothing students. If they think I’m going to clean up after them they’ve got another thing coming. Should confiscate them I should-” there was a sudden clatter further down the hall. “Aha! Got them!” The man took off down the hall, his cat trotting along in his wake.

As the tapestry fell back into place, Lian felt Theo remove his hand from her mouth, and moments later, he was pulling her right hand off of his. She also felt  the adrenaline from almost getting caught causing her blood to pound in her veins. They stood like that for almost too long, when Theo decided it was time to return to the common room.

 

“There you go, There  _ you _ go, and there. You. Go.” Lian tossed the wands back to their owners, victorious. Her own was scolding her from somewhere inside her robes. How dare she let it out of her reach so easily, or something.

Pansy examined hers carefully, then polished it with a handful of her robes. “No one saw you?”

“Other than a handful of Gryffindors, a few owls and a paranoid cat-no.” Lian replied. She chose to not mention the moment with the nook. Her brain was busy trying to delete that memory anyway.

“Should I return the rest?” Theo offered, trying to take the rest of the wands from her, but Lian shook her head.

“We’ll let them look first,” she announced, striding the length of the common room till she reached the fireplace, and set the five remaining wands on the mantle, as though they were a kind of decoration. “Goodnight.” she said to Theo, before leading the girls to their shared room. 

“So...did anything happen?” Pansy asked slyly. Daphne looked up, eyes wide, while Millie yawned and collapsed on her bed.

“Well, we almost got caught a few times, but otherwise not really.”

“Why don’t I believe you,” Pansy said with a sigh, though she was grinning.

“You’re a Slytherin,” answered Lian.

Daphne spoke up from her bed. “As are you, Lian.”


	9. Whether You Like it or Not

The next two days passed without much excitement. She took her detention with McGonagall the following night, which included cleaning the trophies in the trophy room without magic. Deep down, Lian suspected that the Deputy Headmistress was trying to drill it into this presumptuous American’s head that Hogwarts was a school of prestige and tradition. She probably should have left the trophy room that night feeling humbled and experienced a change of heart by the next morning. 

Clearly, McGonagall hadn’t dealt with anyone from New York before. Still, Lian kept in line until Thursday night, which, as it happened, were the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts. Millie had told her over and over again that there hadn’t been a girl on the Slytherin team for decades, to which Lian only rolled her eyes and scoffed. Theo retreated to the background, keeping to himself in and out of class. Lian guessed that as an introvert, the exciting hours in her company had worn him out. She’d consider herself lucky if he ever went on another adventure with her again. 

After dinner on Thursday, Lian fetched her Skyshatter from her room, and was accompanied by Pansy down to the Quidditch pitch. 

“Nice of you to come cheer me on,” Lian commented as they drew near to the pitch, where they could already see a few boys zooming around the field. 

“More like be there to see someone cry. You’ve been quiet for a few days; somethings bound to happen.” Pansy corrected her. Lian neither agreed nor denied her assumption. Montague and Malfoy had been avoiding her lately, which she didn’t mind until she realized that both were on the team. A flyer of sorts had gone up in the common room just the day before, saying that the positions available were Keeper, Chaser and both Beaters. The previous players had either graduated or quit the team to focus on their NEWTs. After it had been established among the girls that Lian was going to try to make the team, they’d pestered her on which position she was hoping for, but she refused to tell.

Pansy bid her good luck as she departed for the stands to watch the tryouts, while Lian marched onto the field to stand with the other want-to-bes. Doing so allowed her to size up what remained of the original Slytherin team: Captain & Chaser Montague, a broad shouldered boy whose jersey read Warrington, and of course, Malfoy, who had to be the team’s seeker. (He was the one to locate where Lian had hidden their wands on the mantle the next morning, after all.)

Looking around at her competition, Lian spotted the only other girl in the clump of people. Feeling taken aback, she called to her, “Daphne?”

The girl looked up, the same wide blue eyes but a much shorter height. “Astoria, actually. I’m her younger sister.” Lian’s mouth formed an ‘O’ in comprehension. “Daphne was the one that encouraged me to tryout, after you told her you’d give it a go.” She gripped her broom, which was a Comet 290. 

Her face was passive, but inside she was insanely nervous. Lian grinned and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You and me; let’s show these boys how to fly.”

Astoria blinked, obviously trying to not gulp. She nodded stiffly. Her eyes unconsciously drifted towards the three original members, specifically the blond one. Lian, noticing this, elbowed her. “Do you like him?”

The third year could not have looked more indignant if she tried. “No! He’s a prat.”

“Alright!” Montague called for order. “Divide into three groups, depending on what you’re trying for. Keepers follow Warrington to the goal posts! Beaters go with Malfoy to the other side and Chasers stay here with me.”

Astoria went with Warrington’s group, sending Lian a thumbs up as she did so. On the other hand, Lian enjoyed a nice stare down with Montague. He glared back at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

She smirked. “Nope. I’m staying right here.”

“You’re wasting your time,” he snapped, mounting his broom with the quaffle under his arm.

“I’ll decide that.” she mounted her Skyshatter, taking off into the sky with the rest. A fourth year, two sixth years and a scrawny second year were her competitors. Decidedly unconcerned, Lian waited for Montague’s instructions. 

“First things first, you all need to prove that you can fly. As chasers, you’ll never stop moving up and down the field, and if a few laps around it are too much for you, you’re cut.” he gave a short blast with his whistle. “The three that get back first move on to the next half. Five laps in succession; ready, go!”

Lian shot away on ‘g’, speeding her way down the pitch, around the goal posts and back up the pitch towards the opposite side. She dodge a bludger with a barrel roll as she zoomed past Malfoy’s group, rounded the goal posts on the other side, and accelerated back up the pitch.  _ This is nothing compared to Quodpot. _ She thought lazily, starting her second lap. She lapped the second year, who nearly lost his grip by getting caught in her tail wind. She wasn’t even going at her top speeds; her broom was called Skyshatter for a reason. 

Three laps later, she came to a halt before Montague, whose whistle fell out of his mouth as his jaw dropped. A good minute later did one of the sixth years and the fourth year pulled to a stop beside her. The fourth year was slightly out of breath. The other sixth and the second year took what felt like a million years to finish, at which point Montague dismissed them with a wave.

“Not bad,” he told the three still airborne. “Now we know you can fly, let’s see how you chase. You’re playing against each other, trying to steal the quaffle from me.” -he spun the quaffle on one hand to show off. Lian considered taking it from him right then and there, but waited for further instructions. “Your aim is to keep possession of the quaffle long enough to reach the keeper.” Without warning, Montague dived, the quaffle tucked under his arm. Lian, who’d sensed he wouldn’t give a signal, was right on his tail. Accelerating a bit, she pulled up alongside him and pounded on the quaffle from the back. It didn’t shoot out of his grip like she’d hoped, but it did startle the captain enough to offset his balance. He shuddered away from her, knocking into the sixth year who’d come up on his other side. In the tangle of shoulders and limbs, Montague dropped the quaffle, where it was caught by the plucky fourth year student. 

He appeared dumbfounded that he’d caught it, but recovered quickly, taking a zigzag path to the goal posts where Warrington was putting the Keepers through their paces. Lian was after him like a shot, throwing him off his stride the same way she’d passed the second year. The ball was dropped again and this time Lian was there to catch it--between her ankles. Both hands still gripping the broom firmly, she soared upwards, charging the keepers. The boy she got the quaffle past looked mildly horrified moments before she scored, his face drained of all color. 

Normally, this would be a moment of victory, but Lian kept stone-faced as she turned back to look at Montague, still half-way up the pitch. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. Surely the message could not have been clearer.  _ What other evidence do you need? I’m your chaser. _

Montague took a deep breath, slowly making his way to his would-be chasers. “I’ll be posting the results of the full tryout tomorrow morning. Good work today.”  and he dismissed them without another word.

Gliding over to the onlookers, Lian hopped off perch on the stands. Pansy was watching Malfoy select beaters, though if anyone had been paying attention, he’d arranged the tryout specifically to Crabbe and Goyle’s strengths. “You were watching me, too, right?” Lian asked, poking Pansy in the arm.

“What? Oh-yes, you were brilliant. Good maneuvering and stuff.” she replied, not taking her eyes off Malfoy for a second. 

“Thanks,” said Lian sarcastically. She followed Pansy’s gaze to the blond seeker, trying to see what her friend saw. After about two minutes, she only saw an ordinary boy with a pointed chin and thin hair. He was lean, which probably benefited his position as a seeker, but Lian only saw it as a disadvantage. For the life of her she could not see what drew Pansy’s affection.  _ Which is probably for the best,  _ she amended silently.  _ If I did find him attractive he’d only be disgusted and she’d be furious.  _ “I’m heading up to the castle. Are you staying here?”

“Mhmm,” was the only reply she received. 

Hopping back onto her broom, Lian set off towards the castle on a low glide. The tips of her shoes trailed through the grass as she did so,  giving her a distinctly lazy feeling. Montague’s face flashed through her mind and she paused, hovering near the greenhouses.  _ He hates me. He’s not going to pick me. He’s going to pick someone else. He’s going to choose anyone else just because he hates me and I’m a girl.  _

She thought about her previous year at Ilvermorny. She’d almost perfected her timing, knowing exactly when to throw the quod before it would explode in her possession. Her teammates usually depended on her to get it the closest to the pot. She’d always known how to play Quodpot, it was fairly straightforward. Quidditch on the other hand was so terribly...European.

During the summer months for the last few years, she and her second cousin Rolf would play one on one quidditch or quodpot, depending on the day. Her little brother Jake started to play as well, though they usually made him keeper. Finally her mother sat her down and taught her how to play Quidditch properly, and Lian had loved the concept ever since.  _ Quidditch, _ her mother’s voice drifted through her mind.  _ Is the quintessential wizarding sport.  If you ever hope to go to Hogwarts, you must know how to play Quidditch, and play superior to the rest. Quodpot teaches you to pass quickly and effectively, also to fly swiftly and aim correctly; all excellent and translatable skills. First, you must select your preferred position; though you are my daughter, and will therefore know all of them.  _

Smiling to herself, Lian allowed herself to sink deeper into thought, wholly unaware of what the breeze was doing to her broom. Her mother was a willowy woman, with dark, wavy hair that she kept long. Lian had inherited her heart shaped face and olive skin, with eyes that were a certain shade of gold. She’d been born in Melbourne, Australia, and she attended Mahoutokoro School of Magic the moment she started displaying magic at age 7. Her own mother had schooled there, and wished for her daughter to follow in her footsteps. A year after she’d graduated, on her 18th birthday, Lian’s mother had been accepted into the Salem Witches Institute, allowing her to further her education in the magical arts, and also give her an excuse to travel to America. There she met May Kowalski, who brought her home for the holidays and introduced her to David Kowalski and three kids later, Amaya Strother-Kowalski lived a full life. She’d never discouraged Lian from chasing down her dreams. When Lian decided at 6 that she would one day attend Hogwarts, her mother was the first one on board, after Great Uncle ‘Oot’. She did not get this far to let her mother down, because someone had ‘a problem’ with her. 

Coming back to earth, figuratively, Lian realized that the wind had taken her relaxed, broom ridden body out over the forbidden forest. The sun was setting in the west, and the stars were beginning to appear. “Oops.” she muttered. It would be so easy to dive down there and have a look around…  _ It’s a school night. You’ve a full day tomorrow.  _ Hating that her brain could have a sensible side, she turned her broom back towards the castle. 

About halfway across the grounds, she thought she heard a kind of commotion back at the pitch. Slowing down a bit, she turned her head to frown towards the skinny outlines of the goal posts. She thought she saw a lone figure circling them, but tryouts should have finished by now?

_ It’s a school night. _ Her mind insisted.

_ One look. Then I’ll go back. _ She argued, already steering her broom towards the goal posts. The closer she got, the more apparent the situation became. Someone was practising alone. Someone who hoped to become Keeper, someone who had performed a terrible charm to make the quaffle fly itself into the goal. 

The seventh time the charm failed, Lian zipped forward and clutched the quaffle, gazing inquiringly at the boy with the red hair.

“Hi Rob,” she said, his blush evident even in the growing dark. “When are tryouts for the Gryffindor team?”

“Tomorrow night,” he answered grudgingly. “I just want to be prepared.”

Lian nodded, withdrawing her wand and tapping the Quaffle to stop it from jerking around in her grasp. “Well, you’re doing it wrong. Let me practice with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure I just failed my tryout, and I could use a distraction.” she explained with a sigh. “Heads up!”

She tossed the Quaffle at him, and he caught it with his face. “OW! Bloody hell, I don’t need your help!”

“Clearly you do.” Lian gestured at his nose, which was bleeding. She watched him take out a purple toffee and stick it in his mouth. The bleeding stopped almost at once. “That’s a neat trick; what is that?”

“My brothers invented them, as a sort of way to get out of classes. You eat the other end and it starts bleeding again.” he explained, looking pleased that he knew something she didn’t. “But I didn’t ask for help from any of my friends; why would I accept it from you?”

“Because I won’t go easy on you, and that’s what you need. Now shut up and Keep.”

“But-”

“Row, toss me the Quaffle. I’m helping you, whether you like it or not.”

  
  



	10. Inquisitor? I Don't Even Know Her!

Lian had a terrible weekend. Montague hadn’t announced the new team lineup yet, and it started to grate on her nerves that very next morning. She worked quietly through Charms and Potions, made her way mutely through lunch, took a nap in Divination, and did her homework in History of Magic. She’d raced back to the common room to check the bulletin, to find it vacant of any and all Quidditch team mentions. 

Saturday was not much better: she woke early, found nothing on the sign, and after breakfast she’d only had homework to look forward to. Which of course she took outside, and got distracted by the Slytherin Team and a few randoms making their way to the Quidditch pitch. They didn’t have their brooms, but she’d hoped to confront Montague. Chasing them down, climbing into the stands and locating her target, she’d moved among the boys to the Captain with relative ease. Before she could open her mouth however, they were already jeering at someone behind her.

Looking around and up, she’d seen the Gryffindor team trying to practice with their rosy new Keeper, Roy. 

“What’s that Weasley’s riding?” Malfoy called in his sneering drawl. “Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?”

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed with laughter.  Lian saw Harry trying to bolster up Roy, followed by a girl with braided hair, who had the Quaffle under her arm. The Slytherins watched the team toss the Quaffle between them, and when it came to Roy he dropped it. The audience sans Lian roared and screamed with laughter. Roy , who held pelted toward the ground to catch the Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily, so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned to playing height, blushing.  Lian noticed that the twins exchanged a glance but said nothing. 

“Pass it on, Ron,” called the girl with the braids, who Lian assumed was the Captain. They continued to throw the Quaffle, and started to fall into a steady rhythm when-

“Hey, Potter, how’s your scar feeling?” called Malfoy. “Sure you don’t need a lie-down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing, that’s a record for you, isn’t it?”

Lian rounded on him, feeling her temper starting to flare up. “What is the matter with you?” Malfoy stopped taunting long enough to sneer at her, followed by his security team, Warrington and Montague. Boys that, only a few hours ago, she’d wanted to be her teammates. “Are you really so insecure with your own skills that you have to ridicule a decent team to make you feel better about yourselves?” she cocked her head at Montague. “Guess you should have selected a better team. Where’s your new Chaser? Or are you so pig-headed you think you and Warrington can handle it alone?”

“You were at tryouts, you tell me,” Montague replied, his expression inscrutable. 

“I guess I should thank you,” Lian tossed her hair over one shoulder, starting to leave the stands. “If you’d put me on the team, I’d be stuck with petty girls for teammates for the rest of the year. I would rather keep my dignity than throw it away rolling in the mud with you.” She was deliberate in her use of the word ‘mud’. “Have fun using less than honorable means to bring others down into the dumps with you.”

“One day you’ll fall off your high horse, Kowalski,” Malfoy shot back at her. “And I’ll be there to watch it happen.”

“This isn’t a high horse, Malfoy,” she called over her shoulder. “This is the truth. It’s especially effective when it stings.” 

And that was only Saturday. She’d gone out flying after she finished her homework, and turned in for the night directly after. 

Sunday she’d hung around with Pansy and Millie. The day sort of passed in a blur, and then suddenly it was Monday morning, she was sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast and everyone was staring at their copy of the  _ Daily Prophet.  _ Lian peered over Theo’s shoulder to read the bold print.

 

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”**

 

“High Inquisitor?” Lian read aloud, feeling slightly sick. The poached eggs and bacon turned to ash in her mouth. “The hell is that?”

Theo read the rest of the article to her:

“In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic paused new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

“‘The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. ‘He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve.’”

He broke off to watch Lian smack her forehead with her hand. “That sounds like something my dad would do,” she moaned. “Just sum up the rest for me, else I won’t be able to keep my food down.” 

Theo nodded. “O-kay,” he scanned the rest of the front page, his expression neutral. “Basically she’s been given power to observe the other teachers in how they are in lessons.” 

Lian slouched in obvious dismay. “You mean we have to put up with her in other classes too?”

“Basically,” Theo replied. “Come on. We’ve got Charms in five,” He grabbed her arm and dragged her good naturedly out of the hall. She acted like a ragdoll until he threatened to drop her down the staircases, at which point she pounced and jumped on his back. “Get off!”

“Giddiup! Onward to the Charms classroom!” she mimed kicking him, pointing in the direction of their class. 

“What if Charms is under inspection?” he grunted beneath her, staggering along the hallway.

“Then we don’t want to make Flitwick look bad and make him wait, now do we?”

But the new High Inquisitor was not in Charms, nor was she in Potions, where Snape handed back their Moonstone essays. Lian had scraped an E, which made her heart feel a bit lighter. Still, Snape’s ugly smirk was a bit off-putting as he handed the Gryffindors their work.

“I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your OWL,” said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them. “This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination.”

Snape reached the front of the class and turned on his heel to face them.

“The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week’s essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who get D’s.”

He smirked as Malfoy sniggered and said in a carrying whisper, “Some people got  _ D’s _ ? Ha!”

Glancing around, Lian spotted Harry shoving his essay back in his bag quickly. She looked away before he saw her. 

For classwork, they started in on the Strengthening Solutions, utilizing that salamander blood Lian had procured in her detention. Everyone was keenly focused on their work, particularly those who had likely received poor grades on their essays. At the end of the double period, Lian’s potion was a sort of teal color; not quite the clear turquoise that the end result called for, but at least it wasn’t pink like Longbottom’s. 

 

She received her first owl during lunch. It was very official looking, well kept at all, and after it dropped her letter it took off without so much as a hoot. Pansy leaned close as Lian examined the envelope and wax seal. 

**To Miss Kowalski**

**The Great Hall**

**Slytherin House**

**Hogwarts**

 

The red wax was imprinted with a large ‘M’. Lian grimaced as she tucked it away inside her robes for later. 

“What’s that, then?” Pansy asked, her eyes following the letter until it disappeared. “Why’s someone from our Ministry writing to you?”

“I am the first transfer student in a century, they probably want to check up on me and see how I’m adjusting after the first week.” Lian replied, shoving a spoonful of soup into her mouth.

“Oh that should be good,” Millie chuckled across the table. She held up a hand to count. “Let’s recap shall we? Two detentions in the first few days, you steal nine wands from your housemates-”

“I thought we agreed that was justified, seeing how mine was taken first,” interjected Lian. “And speak a little louder will you, I don’t think the Gryffindor table can hear you.”

“-You take the Quidditch tryouts by storm and have a strange habit of scolding anyone who’s the least bit sour or prejudice.” Daphne slipped onto the bench beside Pansy, finishing what Millie had started. “Honestly, are all Americans like you?”

“No. I’m the only one like me.” Lian’s answer was surprisingly quiet. The other girls gave her a questioning look, which she only ignored. 

“Speaking of Americans,” Millie cleared her throat, obviously changing the subject. “How do you send each other mail? Do you use owls, too? Because my cousin read somewhere that you lot send letters using eagles.”

“Really?” Lian cracked a smile, neither confirming nor denying the idea. “I’ll see you all in History of Magic; I forgot my-” she used her fingers to draw air quotes, “-’dream diary’ back in the dormitory.”

She left the Great Hall in a rush, but did not return to the Slytherin quarters as she’d said; instead she began to climb the marble staircase, withdrawing the envelope from her robes and sliding it open with her thumbnail.

“Wait!” She paused, just in time for the staircase she was on to change destination. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted none other than Montague standing a few steps below her. 

“What do you want?” she asked, pressing the letter against her abdomen. His expression was something like a soldier putting on his armor. 

“Practice is tonight at 8 o’clock, don’t be late.” he said in a rush, as if saying it faster would make it less painful. Furrowing her eyebrows, she only stared at him, not speaking, nor accepting.  _ What makes you think I’d still play on your team?  _ Seeming to sense her defiance, he sighed. “Look, you’re really the best shot we’ve got at winning the House Cup, and I was struck by your...strength, the other day, in the stands.” he cleared his throat, feeling awkward the longer he spoke and she remained silent. “And I’ve heard you speak to people in other houses about Slytherin. Most of us just reply with words and aggression but you’re actually giving people reasons to not hate us. Which is stupid, we like ruling by fear, but it’s the sentiment I noticed.”

“Your point?” she snapped, as he was beginning to ramble. 

“I think you’re weird. I think you’re dangerous. I think you’d make a good Slytherin given time. And I think you’re a bloody good Quidditch player. See you tonight.” And, having used what was likely his entire vocabulary, he turned and left her upon the stairs.

  
  


Only when she was under the trapdoor alone did she lift the letter to her eyes. She grit her teeth as she recognized the stubby, yet slanted cursive. 

_ Miss Kowalski, _

_ I am terribly disappointed in your Sorting results, you know exactly where I had hoped for you to end up. Still, I believe that this situation can be used to our mutual advantage. The parents of many of your Housemates also happen to be quite influential at the Ministry, and many other high places. And yet, bear in mind that you are not here to make friends, Miss Kowalski. You’ve a job to do, I think I need not remind you of our previous agreement. I expect your report by Saturday next, else I shall have to respond accordingly to your lack of action on the matter at hand.  _

_ Your friend, _

_ DJU _

Feeling as though her heart weighed about thirty pounds more than when she’d received the letter initially, Lian took out her wand and burned it. 

 

Once inside the tower room, students filing in behind her, Lian covered her mouth and nose with the collar of her robes and retreated to the back of the classroom. There she was later joined by Roj and Harry, who looked about as excited to be there as herself. Setting his bag down between his feet, Roj greeted her. “Thanks for what you said on Saturday.”

Lian blinked, staring up at him. “I didn’t talk to you on Saturday.”

“No, but you tend to raise your voice when you’re talking to Malfoy.” he grinned. “I mean, they didn’t stop after you left but still.”

“Oh. Then you’re welcome. But I didn’t do it for you.” She reached into her bag to pull out her dream diary. This week had been filled with flying a car, a dark circular room, a silver animal and her sister Sera getting sorted into Horned Serpent. “I was just speaking the truth. I’m starting to understand that that doesn’t happen a lot in my House.”

Both boys snorted, but the merriment died quickly when Roj elbowed both of them. He pointed towards the trap door, where a pink toad was emerging.  The class, which had been talking cheerily, fell silent at once. The abrupt fall in the noise level made Professor Trelawney, who had been wafting about handing out  _ Dream Oracles, _ look round.

“Good afternoon, Professor Trelawney,” said Professor Umbridge with her wide smile. “You received my note, I trust? Giving the time and date of your inspection?”

Professor Trelawney nodded curtly and, looking very disgruntled, turned her back on Professor Umbridge and continued to give out books.

Lian opted to hide behind  _ The Dream Oracle, _ rather than watch the Umbridge woman settle in the classroom. Professor Trelawney split them into pairs, or tried to, again Lian refused to pair with anyone else in class, or leave the back of the classroom. Surely, the seer should’ve seen that. They turned to each other to ‘interpret the latests nighttime visions with the aid of the  _ Oracle’. _

Harry watched Umbridge in what he thought was a discreet fashion, until she started following Trelawney around and asking questions of the students here and there. In a low whisper, he spoke to Roj and Lian. “Think of a dream, quick! In case the old toad comes our way.”

“I did it last time,” Roj protested.

“And I did the time before that,” Lian added. “It’s your turn now.”

“Oh, I dunno…” said Harry vaguely.  “Let’s say I dreamed I was...drowning Snape in my cauldron. Yeah, that’ll do…”

Roj  chortled as he opened his  _ Dream Oracle _ . 

“That’s my head of house,” Lian murmured under her breath, watching Umbridge taking notes on her clipboard while Trelawney spoke to Longbottom. “Imagine if I threw McGonagall down the marble staircase in my dream.”

“She’d turn you into a pincushion,” Harry quipped.

“In the dream or in real life?”

“Both.”

Umbridge was now speaking to a putout Trelawney.  “Now, you’ve been in this post how long exactly?”

In a deeply resentful tone, Trelawney said, “Nearly sixteen years.”

“Quite a period,” said Professor Umbridge, making another note on her clipboard. “So it was Professor Dumbledore who appointed you?”

“That’s right.”

“And you are a great-great-granddaughter of the celebrated Seer Cassandra Trelawney?”  Lian lifted her head at that, eyebrows scaling her forehead.

“Yes,” said Professor Trelawney. Umbridge proceeded to interrogate her in that sickly sweet voice that made Lian wanted to vomit. She even challenged Trelawney to predict something for her, and then ridiculed her for it. Lian would’ve felt sorry for the Divination teacher if she hadn’t taken out her indignation on their table after.  By the time she had interpreted Harry’s dreams at the top of her voice (all of which, even the ones that involved eating porridge, apparently foretold a gruesome and early death), they were all feeling less sympathetic toward her. 

When the class mercifully came to an end, Lian shoved her diary away, considered taking a shortcut through the tower window, rather than follow the toad down the silver ladder. “Can I hex her?” she asked Harry around a yawn.

“Not in public,” was his reply. 

  
  



	11. Allies

Three weeks slipped through her fingers like sand. She did end up going to Quidditch practice, and she’d been mildly surprised to find that Montague had selected Astoria Greengrass as the new Keeper. She was pretty good too, if she could focus on her job. She liked watching the rest of them fly. 

Lian found solace in the skies as always, whenever she wasn’t arguing with Malfoy over the proper way to catch the snitch. ‘ _ How about you try doing your own work instead of stalking the other teams’ Seekers!’  _

_ ‘Why don’t you shut your muddy mouth and let me worry about winning!’ _

_ ‘A sport like this requires teamwork, just because the Seeker has a separate job, doesn’t mean you’re the star solo player! Without the rest of us you’d get knocked off your broom!’ _

_ ‘Like you know anything about teamwork!’ _

_ ‘What’s that supposed to mean?!’ _

She'd also had a run in with Zabini. Leaving the final class of the day, she'd run into him out in the corridor. He was alone, but she'd been walking with Daphne and Millie. As they passed him, he'd uttered a phrase in Italian. "Sangue sporco." _Dirty blood._  
Without batting an eyelid at him, she’d replied, "Ci vuole uno per conoscere uno." _It takes one to know one._ Straightening her posture, she'd marched onward without another word. When Daphne and Millie pestered her to translate, she'd refused to give in. Whatever happened now was strictly between her and Zabini.

 

“Am I interrupting something?” Lian’s head popped up from behind her wall of books. She’d arrived in the library about three hours previously, may or may not have taken a nap for half of that, and then soldiered on. The person hovering near her table was none other than Hermione. The lioness glanced along the spines of the volumes Lian had selected. “Is this homework?” 

Lian shook her head. “No I just...was curious about something.” She cleared her throat, absentmindedly sorting the books into lines instead of mountains. “What’s up?”

“Well...I wanted to talk to you about something…” said Hermione, hesitantly taking a seat. “I know we’re not exactly friends but-” Lian cut her off.

“What do you mean, we’re not friends? I’d take a...Stunning spell for you.” she said jokingly. Then, seeing the look on the lioness’ maw, she allowed the smile to shrink into a grin. “What is it?”

“...you don’t like the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, do you? I mean, it’s pathetic compared to whatever you were used to at Ilvermorny?” 

“Now you mention it,  _ Defensive Magical Theory _ is a bit subpar compared to what I’m used to; in my second year I started using a textbook called  _ Understanding the Dark Arts. _ Oh don’t look at me like that,” Lian added, seeing Hermione’s eyes widen in horror. “Isn’t it better to know the enemy than to be completely ignorant?”

“Yes but, as a second year student?” 

“Back on topic,” Lian said, steering her on track.

“Right. I was wondering if you’d be interested in learning Defense Against the Dark Arts properly.” she lowered her voice, even by the library’s standards. “If you are...please come to the Hog’s Head this weekend.”

“The what?”

“It’s a pub in Hogsmeade. Please come if you can. Around 2:30 in the afternoon.” she said earnestly. 

“Thank Merlin it’s not in the morning, I just rid myself of jet lag.” Lian winked at her. “I’ll try to be there. Hermione-” she added quickly, as the lioness rose to her feet. “Am I...allowed to bring anyone?” she met the deep brown eyes of the other girl steadily. She knew all too well the other girls’ opinion of her Housemates. 

“I’d like to say I trust you to use your discretion…” Hermione supplied hesitantly. 

“But,” Lian prompted.

“Well, I’d be lying, is all.” she finished curtly. “I’d really prefer it if this idea didn’t reach unfriendly ears, so maybe not broadcast it when you return to your common room.”

“Okay.” Lian replied. “Thank you for being honest with me. See you Saturday.”

 

Saturday morning found her at breakfast rolling pieces of toast around sausages. Millie had shown her how a few days ago, and it reminded her of hot dogs from back home. In the midst of this most ladylike display, she was joined unexpectedly by the boy who’d avoided her for the past few weeks. She’d started to forget what he’d looked like.

“Good morning,” said Theodore Nott, raising an eyebrow at her. Lian struggled to swallow her last mouthful without either choking or spewing it everywhere.

“‘Morning,” she finally coughed.

“Looks like you’ve adjusted well to the traditional English breakfast,” he commented dryly, serving himself a bowl of oatmeal and what had to be brown sugar. 

“Was that sarcasm?” she asked lightly.

“You’re the seer, you tell me.”

“I’m not a seer!”

“Well whatever you are, do you see yourself going to Hogsmeade?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” she replied, reaching for a glass of water to clear her palate.

“Good. I happen to be headed there myself.” Lian choked on her drink. She recovered quickly, then turned to squint at him. “What?”

“Exactly-what. Are you doing?”

He stiffened his posture, a fine sight for a skinny boy eating oatmeal like his mother used to make. “It is just possible that two friends can be seen in the village for what they are,” he said in a haughty tone he’d yet to use on her.

“Friends? That’s a chummy word for a couple of Slytherins.”

“What would you prefer?” he challenged.

She considered him for a minute before answering. “Allies.”

“...Alright.” he said, accepting her offer as she accepted his. “Then, as allies, do you want to go to Hogsmeade?”

“Yeah. I could do that. Except I’ve got to be somewhere at 2:30,” she added, remembering Hermione’s words. For a moment it appeared as if he wanted to question her, push her to tell him what was so important, but he refrained in the end, for which she was grateful.

A short while later they left the castle together, walking in a comfortable silence. Lian didn’t need her Legilimency to know that Theodore was a shy, private person. After joining her on the misadventure after hours, he’d retreated into himself to recover. Perhaps he was of the opinion that something interesting would haunt her footsteps, like the other that were on good terms with her in Slytherin house, or maybe he genuinely enjoyed bantering with her. Whatever the reason, he was back in her company, still not terribly chatty, but in a way she preferred the quiet. 

Once they got into the village of Hogsmeade however, all thought of comfortable silence fled, as the streets were full of students rushing here and there.  She dashed up the cobblestone street towards a shop at the end of the lane. It’s sign read “Zonko’s Joke Shop”.

“Seriously?” Theodore grumbled from somewhere behind her. “These kinds of things are so immature.”

“Shut up, you’re like fifteen. You’re allowed to be immature.” Lian quipped, not taking her eyes off the shop’s front window. 

“Sixteen next month,” he muttered, loud enough for her to hear. She only grunted in reply, then entered the busy shop. The shelves were stocked with Nose-Biting Teacups, Fanged Frisbees, Hiccough Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, Sugar Quills, Dungbombs, and Screaming Yo-yo’s. Theodore hovered near the door while she combed the place carefully.  _ Oh the havoc I could wreck upon Malfoy and Zabini, _ she thought, wistfully tapping the Frog Spawn Soap.  _ They’re so prissy when it comes to appearance.  _ She glanced towards her new ally, who was ducking a rogue Fanged Frisbee. The way he was dressed didn’t shout WEALTH & STATUS. It breathed casual classy, which only served to illuminate her classic messy; what with her Kansas shirt and denim jeans. 

Twenty minutes later she had a few new tricks in her bag, a wide grin on her face, and a disgruntled ally at her shoulder. “Alright Mr. Grumpy-Frumps,” she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “Where would you like to go?”

Wordlessly, he led her to a shop that was fit to burst from all its customers. A homey looking place called ‘Honeydukes’, and once inside, Lian was left in no doubt that Theodore had a bit of a sweet tooth.  There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, the levitating sherbet balls; and along yet another wall were ‘Special Effects’ sweets: Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps (‘breathe fire for your friends!’), Ice Mice (‘hear your teeth chatter and squeak!’), peppermint creams shaped like toads (‘hop realistically in the stomach!’) , fragile sugar-spun quills and exploding bonbons. 

It was Lian’s turn to wait by the door, the sight of so much sugar made her stomach churn unhappily. She enjoyed dark chocolate, but any kind of confectionary or treat otherwise never passed her lips if she could avoid it. She’d purchased her favorite type of chocolate within a minute of being inside, then, retreated to hover near the door. Theodore on the other hand, took his sweet time, pun intended. It felt like hours before he was finally finished, and she was ready to move her legs. 

“Is there a place we can walk?” she asked Theodore once they were away from the bustling sweet shop. 

“Well...there’s one you might go for,” he said vaguely. “This way.” He led her down a side street, that opened out into a path that led through the woods and up a hill. Lian thought it was a simple trail until the creaky, old structure came into view. At one point it might have been a fine establishment, but time and abuse had stolen its beauty. Now it stood, a lonely house with boarded up windows and doors. It was surrounded by a gated fence, which had either been meant to keep something out, or someone in. 

“What is this place?” she asked after her eyes had drunk their fill.

“It’s called the Shrieking Shack. The villagers say it's haunted. Want to get closer?” he offered lightly, as though they were at an art museum.

“There’s a castle across the lake that’s filled with hundreds of ghosts and they’re afraid of one or two in that dingy looking place?” said Lian incredulously. 

“The ghosts in Hogwarts don’t screech like a demon possessed in the middle of the night, unless you count that ghost in the girls bathroom on the second floor.” Theodore expounded with a shrug, leaning on the fence.

“What do you know about Moaning Myrtle?” said Lian quickly, the corners of her mouth twitching. 

“Less than you, as I’ve never actually seen her; though a couple of years ago I heard her screaming at a couple of first years who’d gone in there.” 

She laughed, the sound echoing off the empty hill. “What time is it?”

“Almost half past 2 o’clock,” he replied, checking his watch. “Didn’t you have somewhere to be?”

Lian was already sprinting back towards the village, and was unable to give him a proper answer.

 

She reached the Hog's Head completely out of breath. She was a fantastic flyer, but on foot was an entirely different story. Pausing to allow her heart to slow its beat, she was aware of footsteps drawing nearer. "You run like you've got a werewolf at your back," Theodore huffed. “What kind of business would drag you to this dump?” Lian shot him a befuddled and slightly annoyed expression, instead of a witty reply, still catching her breath. “What? You said you had somewhere to be; you never said I couldn’t come. And by the looks of you, you won’t be saying anything for quite a while.”

While they faced each other in a kind of stand-off outside of the bar, a whole group of people began to flood inside. She recognized Longbottom and a boy she was pretty sure was called Dean Thomas at the front, followed by a fair amount of Ravenclaws, some of the girls on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, a handful of HufflePuffs, and bringing up the rear were the redheaded twins, Fred and George, with a friend of theirs. Breathing normally at last, she sent Theodore a warning look before marching over to catch the door before it closed behind George.

He looked around at her as she squeezed in behind him, followed by Theodore. Recognition dawned in his eyes as he looked her over, and, giving Theodore a wary look, he let them further inside the unkempt place. Unlike the pub on the main street that Lian had spotted earlier, this place had been almost deserted before the crowd had entered. The tall barman with his long grey hair and beard looked stunned to see so many people in his bar. Lian could feel her Legilimency starting to act up as the new and foreign environment was beginning to make her panic. 

_ The man behind the bar lived upstairs, he always smelt of goat because he owned one too many. His  name was Aberforth Dumbledore--he was the Headmasters’ younger brother. He’d had a hard, troubled life and he spared no affection for his brother. He was not a threat.  _

_ The veiled witch with the protruding nose, her name...no, his name was Mundungus Fletcher. He’d been banned from this very bar and the other pub several times in the past. He was a spy...no! A watchdog for some...one. He knows the Weasley kids. He fears their mother. He’s a petty criminal, but he’s...not a threat. _

_ The heavily bandaged head at the bar, or rather the man who was almost dressed up like a mummy, he was a No-Maj baiter. He’d recently been arrested by the Ministry because he’d enchanted a series of regurgitating toilets. His capture had left him badly injured, hence the mummified head. He...he...he was a threat. Willy Widdershins, his name is Willy Widdershins and oh no. _

“Kowalski,” Theodore was nudging her, offering her a dusty bottle of butterbeer. 

“Huh!” she forced her mind to shut up, to drown out the bar and its sketchy inhabitants. She had to take care of Willy, first thing. Taking the bottle that was being offered, she found a seat near the back of the group with Theo where they could be ignored by the majority of the crowd. Withdrawing her wand from her bag, she rested its tip lazily on her shoulder, trying to aim it at the mummy-man. 

“Er,” said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. “Well - er - hi.” she allowed a moment for the whole group to focus on her.  “Well...erm...well, you know why you’re here.” - _ No, not really, _ Lian jumped in her seat, those hadn’t been her thoughts. Either the group was collectively thinking or...she looked at Theo out of the corner of her eye. He was leaning back in his chair and watching Hermione with a frown. “Erm...well, Harry here had the idea - I mean,” \- She changed her tune when Harry threw her a sharp look. -  “I had the idea - that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us,” (She began to speak more clearly the more comfortable she became.) “ because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts” - “Hear, hear,” said  a blond boy from Ravenclaw. He looked vaguely familiar to Lian. -“ well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.”

Cursing herself slightly for forgetting about Willy, Lian quickly cast the same deaf spell she’d cast on herself during Umbridge’s awful speech. Stowing her wand away before anyone could notice her holding it, she rested her elbows on her knees to better focus on what Hermione was getting at.

“ And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells -”

“You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL, too though, I bet?” said one of the Ravenclaw boys,  who was watching her closely.

“Of course I do,” said Hermione at once. “But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because...because…” She took a great breath and finished, “Because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

Immediately, everyone in the group went nuts. Predictable, but nuts. A girl with curly strawberry blonde hair shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, one of the Ravenclaw boys twitched, another girl shuddered violently, and Longbottom gave an odd sort of yelp that he tried to pass off as a cough. Beside her, Theodore stiffened. Lian noticed, however, that each and every one of them focused on Harry, their expressions expectant and almost eager.

“Well...that’s the plan anyway,” said Hermione. “If you want to join us, we need to decide how we’re going to -”

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” said  a blond boy in a rather aggressive voice. 

“Well, Dumbledore believes it-” Hermione began.

“You mean, Dumbledore believes  _ him _ ,” said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.

“Who are  _ you _ ?” said Ro z  rather rudely.

“Zacharias Smith,” said the boy, “and I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes  _ him  _ say You-Know-Who’s back.”

“Look,” said Hermione, intervening swiftly, “that’s really not what this meeting was supposed to be about -”

Harry finally spoke up, facing Zacharias Smith head on, talking about how he faced You-Know-Who. Lian felt his anger growing with every word, powerful and irrational. She didn’t mean to, but his mind was practically screaming at her.

_ She saw through Harry’s eyes. Saw a graveyard with old, worn headstones from days gone by. It was dark, but the figure of a slouched man charging across the grass towards Harry and another, an older boy with a strikingly handsome face. A horrible rasp of a voice screeched, “Kill the spare!” This was immediately followed by a flash of green light, and the handsome boy’s corpse fell to the ground.  _

_ Skip ahead to a tall man in a black robe. With red, snake-like eyes and no nose, rather slitted nostrils upon his ivory complexion. It was the face of a deformed, soul-less man.  _

Someone was nudging her again. Theodore was gazing at her with round eyes, as was George and his friend, who were sitting closest to them. Lian blinked at them all, shrugging her shoulders. “What?”

“You kind of hissed,” said George’s friend. Lian’s Legilimency was still sensitive and gathered that his name was Lee Jordan. “I think there was a word or two included but it was difficult to make out.”

“Oh...I just have a really bad migraine.” she said apologetically. “The arguing doesn’t really help.”  _ Did I accidentally say something out loud? Something from Harry’s memories? _ She wondered, trying to imagine what that might look like. 

“So,” said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. It brought the focus back to her, ish. Several people were still staring at Harry, who still looked very angry.  “So… like I was saying… if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we’re going to do it, how often we’re going to meet, and where it is we’re going to-”

“Is it true,” interrupted a girl with a long braid down her back, speaking to Harry, “that you can produce a Patronus?”  Lian looked up at that. She’d started learning how to do that in her last year at Ilvermorny, but hadn’t been able to get much further than a silver cloud. Unless her Patronus  _ was _ a cloud, which would be disappointing.

“Yeah,” said Harry slightly defensively.

“A corporeal Patronus?”

“Er - you don’t know Madam Bones, do you?” he asked.

“She’s my auntie. I’m Susan Bones- ” Theodore flinched beside her.  “She told me about your hearing. So - is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“Blimey, Harry!” said Lee. “I never knew that!” Lian sat back in her seat, as the other twenty-five or so of the group shot out mentions of Harry’s past accomplishments that proved he was capable of teaching them Defensive Magic, better than the old pink toad. Then, when he grew embarrassed he tried to deny the enormity of it all, which riled up the Smith boy, which riled up the Weasley boys, which led Hermione to steer everyone back on track. Generally, they all seemed to agree to take lessons from Harry; then they started arguing over when these meetings would take place. Then Hermione dropped a bomb about how the Ministry was afraid Dumbledore was training them to be an army, so that’s why Umbridge was determined to prevent them from learning actual magic. Then some drifting Ravenclaw  started spouting nonsense which distracted Hermione, and then someone imitated Umbridge’s cough. 

“Hem, hem.” Several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. “Weren’t we trying to decide how often we’re going to meet and get Defense lessons?”

“Yes,” said Hermione at once, “yes, we were, you’re right…”

“Once a week sounds good,” said Lian, speaking to the group at large for the first time, alerting several of them that she and Theodore had actually been present the entire meeting. Some of them, no, most of them, looked alarmed. “Okay, really people? Of all the Slytherins that could’ve been here today we are by far the least threatening! Get over yourselves.”

“So…” said Hermione after the pause that followed. “We should probably decide where we’re going to meet…”

An awkward tension filled the group. Someone suggested the library, or an unused classroom, but none of them felt appropriate for what they were trying to do.

“Right, well, we’ll try to find somewhere,” said Hermione. “We’ll send a message round to everybody when we’ve got a time and a place for the first meeting.” She rummaged in her bag and produced a parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something. The parchment in particular snatched Lian’s attention. There was something about it that set her senses on edge. 

“I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think,” she took a deep breath, “that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we’re doing. So if you sign, you’re agreeing not to tell Umbridge - or anybody else - what we’re up to.”

Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully put down his signature.  Lian reached across his shoulders to take the quill and sign it next. The moment her name was scribed down, she felt the distinct traces of a magically binding contract. Hermione had jinxed the parchment, but Lian couldn’t fault her for it; she’d have done the same thing if the roles had been reversed.

Some of the others hung back, looking shifty. The Hufflepuff prefect raised an issue about not wanting his name to be found on the list, so obviously against Umbridge. Finally, Hermione quelled his doubts by declaring,  “Ernie, do you really think I’d leave that list lying around?”

“No. No, of course not,” said Ernie, looking slightly less anxious. “I - yes, of course I’ll sign.”

Without any further objections, everyone reached for the parchment and quill. Everyone except possibly Theodore, who stood and left the bar without a word. Harry, Hermione, and a couple of the rest watched him leave with expressions mixed with anger and fear. Lian jumped up quickly, following Theodore. “Hang on, I’ll talk to him!”

When she got outside, she spotted his retreating figure making its way back to the main street. He pushed his way past a group of third years, evidently not caring that he knocked one of them over in the process.

“Nott!” she called after him, charging up the cobblestone street. “Wait!” It was when he didn’t stop  that she realized that she’d made a mistake in letting him follow her into the bar. 


	12. Silence is Golden

“Nott!” Lian called, staring around at the dark trees. “This is ridiculous!” She’d followed him all the way back to the Shrieking Shack, where he proceeded to walk headlong into the forest.  _ You know, the forbidden one. _ She’d lost sight of him faster than she could have predicted, much to her chagrin. At length, she discovered him leaning against a tree that looked like it had sharpened one too many claws. His jaw was set and his hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, looking every bit like an angsty aristocrat. “Okay. Would you like to explain what just happened?” 

He sniffed. “Funny, I was about to ask the same of you.”

“I didn’t storm out like an angry child.”

“And I didn’t ask to get involved in a coup.”

“I didn’t ask you to come with me, and it’s not a coup; it’s learning actual defensive magic, which you can’t say that Umbridge woman is doing.”

“From Potter?!” he snapped, finally looking at her. Lian didn’t sense actual anger from him, he was mostly indignant and offended, though why she couldn’t tell. “Why can’t you be satisfied in your own house?”  _ Ah, there it is. _

“Is that what this is about?” she gave an exasperated sigh. “The fact that they were all from the other houses?”

“What’s wrong with Slytherin? I like it, I’ve been there for five years now!” he was speaking at a louder volume than she’d ever heard him. “You’ve been in it for a month and decide that the other houses are better?”

“Okay. I’m going to say this once, so you listen to me; SLYTHERIN IS JUST AS GOOD AS THE OTHER HOUSES.” Lian raised her voice, as though he were deaf. “I can't believe this school! There are houses at Ilvermorny, but we’re not pitted against each other. I was friends with people from all the houses, not just my own. But here-” she gestured blindly towards where she guessed the castle to be. “-you’re all so...cliquish!”

“This isn't Ilvermorny; or didn't you notice. Why don't you go back to your precious American school if you hate the way things are here, then?” He shot at her, removing his hands and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Because I don't believe for one second that ‘the way things are’ means ‘the way it must always be’. And I don't think you do either. So what's really got you all up in a towering inferno?” She placed her hands on her hips, leaning on one side. 

“You don't know what I think!” He snapped.

“Then tell me!”  _ Even if I already took a peek, please, enlighten me! _

“I think you’re mad going behind Umbridge’s back with those idiots. I think the smart path is to wait out this one horrible teacher until she gets fired or something because the jobs jinxed. I think you're unnecessarily sticking out your neck, and it's going to backfire on you, and you're not dragging me down with you!” He started to pace around the clawed tree, unable to look her in the eye. 

“They’re just defense lessons, Nott! It's not an ‘I love Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore’ fan club’.” She countered, starting to pace with him. She finally cut across his path and made him look at her. “Do you really want to enter your Sixth year of wizarding education unprepared? There are so many things we’re meant to cover this year, and there’s those super important OWLs you might have heard of- you can't tell me that you're ready to receive an Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“You can't tell me that taking lessons from Potter will prepare me any more than theory with Umbridge.” He said, shaking his head at her. “You won't change my mind.”

“I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do,” she replied, noticing how the statement made his eyes light up, despite his furrowed brow. “But I need you to promise you won't tell anyone about it. That's what signing that parchment would signify, and that's it! You don't have to take the lessons if you don't want to, just don't try and stop me. Alright?” She waited with baited breath. 

“What does being an ally mean to you?” He asked, catching her off-guard. “I mean, you deny my friendship but that you insist upon. Why?”

She steadied herself, preparing for the worst reaction to what she was about to say. “I don't need a friend. I don't need a boyfriend. I need someone I can trust, who will trust me, and that's why I need an ally.” 

“...Good. Because I don't need friends either. But how can I trust you when you're so obviously taking a terrible risk?” There he went, surprising her again. 

“How can I trust you not to tell? I'll tell you what,” she began suddenly, backing away from him by ten paces. “Duel me. If I win, you have to sign and swear not to tell. If I lose…” she couldn't think of a consequence,  _ because there’s no way I'm losing to you.  _

“If you lose, you don't go to the lessons.” He supplied much too quickly for her liking. Having no alternate plan prepared, Lian only nodded stiffly. She set down her bag as he removed his jacket, both withdrawing their wands. No rules were stated, but neither of them cared to suggest a few. 

Lian drew first position, standing with her right shoulder facing her opponent, left hand gripping her wand while her arms were raised in both guarded and offensive positions. Theodore gave her a funny look and just raised his wand. 

“ _ Expelliarmus! _ ” Theodore cried, predictably. Lian barely had to move to block that one. 

They fired the first few spells at each other, managing to deflect or dodge. Lian wanted to get a feel for how he dueled before she shut him down, but he was playing it safe, for now. He was very calculated in everything he did, and casting spells was no different. She was able to follow his thought process with ease, making the first few minutes nothing more than child's play. 

“ _ Diffindo! _ ” He cried, firing once more, and when she blocked it with a casual flick, something in his eyes changed. “ _ Locomotor Mortis! _ ”

That one, the one he hadn't actually thought through, caused her legs to lock together with a snap. Lian struggled momentarily to keep her balance, which gave her an idea. Pointing her wand at his feet, she thought  _ Tarantallegra!  _ At once his legs and feet were forced into a kind of dance.  _ Hard to aim when you’re in the throes of a good jig,  _ she thought smugly. 

Theodore jabbed his wand wildly in her direction and yelled, “ _ Incarcerus! _ ” Thick ropes flew at her and tried to bind her arms to her side. 

_ Relashio!  _ And the ropes fell in tatters around her. She then aimed her wand at his mouth.  _ Silencio!  _

Theodore tried to send another spell her way but was unable to without his voice. With a wave, Lian lifted the dancing jinx from him, leaving him to fall against the tree trunk, his feet occasionally twitching. He glared up at her, gesturing impatiently at his throat. 

“Are you surrendering, Mr. Nott?” She asked in her most official tone of voice. 

He spread his arms in an attempt to communicate. ‘ _ Obviously.’ _

Lian offered a hand, helping him to his feet. “So, back to our prior agreement, will you sign that parchment and swear not to tell anyone?” He motioned to his throat again, trying to convince her to lift the spell, but she shook her head. “That's staying on until you hold up your end.” 

Annoyed, he mouthed a rude word at her, which only made her laugh. 

 

They found Harry, Rom, and Hermione at a table in the Three Broomsticks. Pulling up a chair for herself and Theodore, Lian planted her elbows on the table and leaned across to Hermione. “He’ll sign.” 

The lioness glanced from the silent Nott to Lian and back again. “Are you sure?” 

“He doesn't exactly look agreeable,” said Rom, who had taken it upon himself to have a glaring contest with Theodore. 

“Oh he is,” Lian said reassuringly. “Yeah, we had a good chat. And he swears he won't tell anyone and to prove it he’s agreed to sign your parchment.”

“Can't he speak for himself?” Asked Harry, who was looking at the pair of them suspiciously. 

“Nope. Where is it, then?” Lian replied curtly, ignoring the fact that Theodore had kicked her under the table. Hermione hesitantly withdrew it from her bag, unrolling it just enough so that Nott could put down his signature. Lian handed him the quill, smiling widely at his death glare before he wrote his name at last. 

Once his ‘t’s were all crossed, she tapped his head with her wand, returning his ability to speak. His first words were, “You cheated!”

Ignoring their Gryffindor onlookers, Lian opened her mouth dramatically. “I did not!”

“You knew I couldn't cast spells non-verbally, so you stole that ability; what’d you use, anyway?  _ Quietus? Silencio?” _

“ _ Quietus _ would’ve only made you whisper, as it is the counter spell to  _ Sonorus, _ which you hadn't performed.” Lian spoke as though explaining that one and one was two. Across the table, Harry and the others were staring at them argue with appalled expressions. Theodore stood and made to leave, gesturing for her to follow him. 

“I would’ve beat you if you hadn't panicked and cheated.” 

Standing up and leading the way out the door, she argued, “I didn't cheat! We didn't lay out any rules!”

As the door closed behind them, he insisted, “Just admit it, you didn't want to lose to me so you-”

“Used a spell to render you incapable of fighting back? That almost sounds like we were dueling or something. Oh wait!”

They argued loudly all the way back to the castle, though by the time they passed the greenhouses, Theo was smiling slightly and Lian was giggling. 

“Kowalski!” a shout made her stop dead in her tracks. If anything from the last month had left an imprint on her, it was that grating drawl. “Get in your Quidditch robes, we’ve got practice within the hour.”

Pivoting on the spot, she found Malfoy leaning against a suit of armor, oddly on his own.  _ So many options… _ “How come I’m just hearing about this now?”

“Because Montague only decided on it this afternoon. So, be at the pitch or you’re off the team.” he said, curling his lip.

“I’d actually be threatened by that statement if you had any real pull with the captain’s decisions.” she replied swiftly.

“Who’s to say I don’t?”

“You hate me. If you had any pull over Montague, I wouldn’t have made the team.”

“Why don’t you two save your quarreling for the pitch?” interjected Theodore, looking bored. “Where’s your usual entourage, Malfoy?”  _ Nice. _

Malfoy turned his attention to Nott, his expression inscrutable but his mind was wide open. 

_ He remembered Theo as a kid, their parents used to make them spend time together from the time they were in diapers to about the age when magic starts manifesting. He’d always respected Theo’s space, but could hardly believe the way he was acting these days. He didn't understand the reason behind _ -

“I wasn't under the impression that I answered to you, Nott.” Malfoy replied stiffly. 

“And I wasn't under the impression that you were brave enough to walk the halls without your meatheads.” Theodore quipped. 

Lian chuckled appreciatively. “Don't hurt yourself on the way to practice, Malfoy. I'd hate to see the reserve seeker out there instead of you,” she said sarcastically, marching past him into the dungeons. Behind her, she could hear the boys exchanging remarks, but didn't bother to eavesdrop. Malfoy was full of it, but Montague would be pissed if she wasn't on the field in time. 

 

She ran into Astoria Greengrass on her way to practice. The young Keeper looked even more stressed and out of sorts than how Lian felt. “Are you just hearing about practice as well?”

Astoria bobbed her head, clutching her Comet 290. “I was having a late lunch with my sister in the village when I overheard someone on the Hufflepuff team complaining about how Montague booked the pitch for the evening.”

“I barely got back ten minutes ago,” said Lian, shrugging the shoulder of her practice robes a bit higher. The first game of the season wouldn't take place until November, but Montague had a vision of a team that could think with a single mind, so he kept them working hard. Already he’d argued with the other captains over practice times, the Gryffindor captain more than once. “Think if we arrive together there’s a smaller chance of getting kicked off the team?” 

Astoria shrugged. “Worth a try.”

When they reached the pitch, the rest of the team was already running drills. Warrington’s older brother was a member of the Wimbourne Wasps, which apparently made him an expert on Quidditch and how to exercise a team correctly. Crabbe and Goyle had a series of pull/push-ups and punches and whacking a very agitated bludger back and forth to build up their arm muscle, not that it was required, and improve their aim. Astoria shot off towards the goals where Montague was making practice shots over and over. Her task for the next hour would be to block every shot he threw at her, consecutively. He’d also jinxed the snitch to vibrate at a frequency that was both difficult to see and grasp. It would keep Malfoy occupied for the better part of the evening until he deemed it appropriate to take his frustrations out on Lian. 

Last but not least, Lian and Warrington would practice with a quod. She’d found an old Quaffle in the equipment room beneath the stands. With a quick spell, it'd become volatile. He’d heard of the game before she mentioned it a few weeks ago, but never watched a match. ‘ _ It's simple, _ ’ she'd told him the first time. ‘ _ The faster you fly and the more you pass, the less likely it’ll explode.’  _ It'd been worth mentioning just to see his face grow pale. 

He was hovering near the end of the field, waiting for her. She mounted her broom and pulled up alongside him, nodding at the quod beneath his arm. “Ready?”

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, steering to face the unguarded hoops. Lian pulled her wand out of her boot and pointed it at the middle post, transfiguring the hoop into a pot. On her left, Warrington was muttering the spell that would create the explosion-cancelling substance in the pot. Once they were both satisfied, they leaned forward on their brooms, and shot through the air. Warrington passed her the quod, which she caught with her feet, cradling it between her ankles and the underside of her legs. She’d explained to Warrington and Montague why she played that way, because the first practice they couldn't stop staring.  _ ‘It makes sense in quodpot, _ ’ she’d said patiently. ‘ _ Because instead of throwing it into a hoop, you've got to drop the ball and it's easier if you can actually drop it instead of trying to toss it just right.’ _

They made her train the ‘proper’ way, as well, but for the time being she could play comfortably. 

She kicked the quod back at Warrington who caught it deftly in his right arm, his left hand never leaving the broom handle to keep his flight steady. Her dived over the pot and slammed the quod in; it was rather like a scene from No-Maj basketball. Lian looped back and snatched up the ball as it popped back up, ready for another go. Tucking it under her left arm, Lian attempted to steer one handed, finding the ride not quite as smooth as before. Feeling the renewed quod pulsing against her ribcage didn't help. 

The team practiced separately for the better part of an hour, and then came together to practice actual game plays and victory laps.  _ Because nothing says chauvinistic like victory laps.  _

Montague blew his whistle, indicating that they should stop. “Kowalski, stop taking such deep dives! We’ve already got a Seeker for that.”

Lian took a long look around at her teammates, as if searching for someone. “Do we? Funny, I've never seen one at practice.”

Malfoy sneered at her. “Ha-ha. Very amusing.” 

Lian grimaced at him, before looking back at Montague. “Good practice today, really. In the next few weeks, the important thing to remember is to psych-out the other teams. Our first match is against Gryffindor come November, so for now...focus on their new, pathetic Keeper: Weasley.” 

Lian cleared her throat. “Meaning?” 

Montague chose his words very carefully, “Just that, we’ll have a better chance at winning after we get under their skin and into their heads.”

Lian snorted in derision. “That sounds uncomfortable. How about we, I don’t know, play honestly and fairly and win because we’re better? Not because we used less than honorable means?” Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle began to show signs of objection when she added, her tone dead serious, “If I see any of you taking cheap shots at the other teams, I will sabotage you personally.”

Montague cleared his throat. “Do that, and I will replace you.”

“Like you could find a Chaser as good as me or Warrington before the next game.” Lian crossed her arms, looking at the captain challengingly. 

“You could definitely find one less mouthy,” mumbled Warrington. Lian tapped his arm with her fist. 

“Whatever, you love me.”  

“Okay!” Said Montague, bringing the attention back to himself. “So; boys-” he pointed at Malfoy and the meatheads. “-no cheap shots. Girls-” he pointed at Lian and Astoria. “-let the others play their positions and make sure you play yours. Warrington-” he looked across at the other seventh year. “Try not to depend on your right arm so much, the other teams will notice before long.” 

They all nodded, and then practice was over. 

 

Back in the changing room, Lian found an envelope shoved in her locker. It was sealed with an impressive M and the writing was squat and slanted. 

_ Miss Kowalski _

_ Slytherin Quidditch Locker Room _

_ Hogwarts _

 

Sighing deeply, she shoved the letter inside her pocket before anyone else saw it. 

She opened it once she was safe in the privacy of the girls’ bathroom. It did not bear congratulations of any kind. 

_ Miss Kowalski, _

_ I understand that you were doing your job as asked of you only earlier this afternoon. I applaud your efforts and expect a full report before tomorrow morning. Good evening.  _

_ Your friend _

 

_ Damn Willy.  _ She cursed silently, before flushing the letter down the toilet. 


	13. Educational Are-You-Kidding-Me? #24

The next Monday morning arrived as unwelcome as ever, but this time it brought with it a bit of a shock. Lian had barely set foot in the common room, her mouth open in a large yawn when someone grabbed her sleeve and tugged her towards the bulletin board. Anticipating Theodore, she was surprised to see that it was Warrington. Her was tapping a large parchment that had not been there last night. 

 

**BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR**

**All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.**

**An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.**

**Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).**

**No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.**

**Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.**

**_The above is in accordance with_ **

**_Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four_ **

**Signed:**

**_Dolores Jane Umbridge_ **

**High Inquisitor**

 

Warrington gripped her shoulder tightly, until it started to hurt and she whacked him away. “You realize she means Quidditch teams?”

_ Along with a few other things I’m assuming,  _ Lian thought grimly. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Theodore frowning at the sign. His blue eyes swept over her before he turned his back and left the common room. But in that moment, she could have sworn he’d sent her one thought:  _ I kept my word. I swear it. _

“C’mon, I bet if we get to Umbridge now,” Lian snapped out of her thoughts and looked around at Warrington, who was talking to Malfoy. “She’ll probably re-form the Quidditch team right away.”

“You’re probably right; between my father and yours, we’ve got a certain pull with Ministry officials.” said Malfoy, nodding eagerly. “Come on, then.”

Not entirely sure how she was important to this adventure, Lian found herself being pulled along by her teammates. She attempted to protest, convince the pair of them that breakfast was more important to her than Quidditch at the moment, but they refused to let her go. Even Malfoy. Quicker than she’d expected, the three of them were standing outside Umbridge’s office. “Seriously guys, she’s probably in the Great Hall, eating porridge or children.”

“Quiet you,” sneered Malfoy, knocking on the door. 

There was a long pause, and just when Lian was ready to march away, they heard a soft, “Come in,” from inside.  _ Dang it. _

Wearing a winning smile that made Lian want to vomit, Malfoy opened the door. “Good morning, Professor Umbridge,” he said in a new, charming voice. Lian would’ve been distracted by it except she was busy being blinded by the High Inquisitor’s office. The walls were pink, the furnishings were pink, the china plates were pink, the fluffy kittens adorning the china plates were thankfully not pink, but the carpet was unfortunately pink and Lian was pretty sure that the desk was made from a rose wood.

“Good morning indeed, Mr. Malfoy,” replied Professor Umbridge, who was reviewing a piece of parchment on her desk. “I was just about to make my way to breakfast; what urgent matter brings you all to my office?” Her voice was so high pitched, and almost simpering as she addressed Malfoy. Lian definitely felt some bile creeping up her throat. Maybe breakfast wasn’t such a good idea. 

“We noticed the new Educational Degree, Professor,” said Malfoy, continuing to speak in a charming way. “The three of us are on the Slytherin Quidditch team and we were hoping you might approve its re-formation.”

Umbridge’s eyes scanned over Malfoy, then Warrington, who was a few steps behind him, and then Lian who had remained just inside the threshold. “All three of you are on the team?” she repeated slowly. Judging by her emphasis, Lian sensed that this question was aimed at her. Before Malfoy could schmooze any more charm onto his voice, she answered.

“Yes. Malfoy’s our star player; and his father just loves coming to the games.” Malfoy’s head whipped back to look at her so quickly Lian was surprised he didn’t snap his own neck. Umbridge emitted what was supposed to be a girlish giggle, but actually sounded like a high-pitched squawk. “Warrington and I are just the white-noise Chasers. But we’d love it ever so much if we could play for the glory of Slytherin.” Inwardly cursing herself, she added, “You were in Slytherin, weren’t you, Professor?”

Umbridge appeared to preen at that, while Warrington gave Lian a confused look and Malfoy looked upset that he’d once again lost control of a conversation to Lian.  _ It’s called Legilimency boys. Learn it. ...Actually, no, please don’t.  _ Lian forced her expression into a mild one rather than the unpleasant gag that was wrestling its way up her throat. Umbridge was speaking again. “Well, as you are all so responsible to come to speak to me about it, I don’t quite see how I can refuse!” She pulled out a new sheet of parchment and began scribbling across it vigorously. “Please deliver this to your captain, Mr. Malfoy. I’m happy to grant you playing privileges for the Slytherin Quidditch team.” she handed Malfoy the note, he gave her his best grin, and headed out of the office at once. He spared a funny look for Lian before leaving, one that she would find the reason for later, even if she already knew why she’d received it. 

“Thanks,” she said curtly, trying to follow Warrington out of the room. 

“Ms. Kowalski, a word, if you please.” Lian stiffened, her hand on the door knob.  _ No! I do not please! Just walk out! Just go! Shoo! _

Turning back into the office, Lian tried to smile but failed miserably. It felt like her lips were melting off her face. “Yes, Professor?”

“Close the door,” Umbridge said, nodding at the only chance of escape. Unless you counted the window, and one should always count the window.  _ In any case, at least you know you can take her.  _ Once the door was closed, Umbridge cleared her throat. “Hem, hem. Right then. I’m sorry to detain you from breakfast, but I have a few questions for you.”

“About Quidditch?” supplied Lian.  _ Please let it be that easy. _

“No, I think we’ve settled that matter.” said Umbridge smoothly. “Rather, I would like to inquire how you are finding Hogwarts in comparison to your other school?” She gestured to the chair opposite her desk. It was wooden and high-backed and looked to be about the least comfortable place in the entire office, other than in the limelight of Umbridge’s attention. “Please sit.”

Hesitantly, Lian sat in it, all her observations made correct, and she looked towards Umbridge. “You want me to compare the two schools?”

“Quite. I believe that Ilvermorny is quite a prestigious school with many graduated witches and wizards who have gone on to successful careers in the wizarding world; one just wonders how Hogwarts measures up?” she threaded her stubby fingers together as she leered at Lian.

“Well, while what you say is true, there are many things offered at Hogwarts that they do not offer at Ilvermorny.” Lian focused on the black bow on Umbridge’s head. It was the only thing that wasn’t pink in the office and she could barely stand being trapped for another minute.

“Such as?”

Lian sniffed, gaining some of her spunk. It had fled in the other direction once it had spotted the interior of the office. “I do not think it much if any of your business to know what Ilvermorny does and doesn’t have. You have never stepped foot in its halls, and you never will; so why don’t you ask me what you really want to know instead of trying to gain my trust?” she bit her tongue, afraid she’d gone too far.

“You’re quite perceptive,” said Umbridge after a terrible pause. “Fitting characteristic for your House.” 

“My perception has nothing to do with my house; I had it before I boarded the Hogwarts Express.” Lian interrupted.

Her smile seemed less girlish and more stiff now. Lian had entered onto thin ice as far as the High Inquisitor’s patience went. “Ms. Kowalski, I wonder whether there is anything you feel you need say to me. Anything that perhaps...I ought to know?”

Lian bit her tongue again.  _ Oh the things I could tell you that would also get me expelled or worse… _ “No, Professor. I don’t believe I know anything more than yourself.”

Umbridge peered at her, trying to stare into her soul, as though she fancied herself a Legilimens.  _ Tsk. _ “Yes...I believe you’re right.” She took a deep, steadying breath, before returning to her breathy, girlish ways. “My apologies for detaining you. You may go.”

Lian couldn’t have left that office faster if she was astride her broomstick. She did not bother trying to make breakfast, her appetite had been effectively destroyed. Instead she made it to Charms just five minutes before the bell rang. She entered the classroom, chose a seat at random and flung her book bag under the desk as she ran her hands through her hair. Head bent over the desk, she didn’t notice the persons standing over her until it was too late.

A pale hand with long fingers placed itself on the desk in her vision. “So. I’m the star player, am I?” Lian released her hair, which fell around her face unevenly, and looked up into the smug face of one Draco Malfoy. 

“You know as well as I do that I only said that to get her to approve the team. If she wasn’t so enamoured with whatever ‘work’ your father does at the Ministry, and if I hadn’t reminded her of her previous loyalties, we wouldn’t have a team.” she huffed, dropping her arms and smacking his hand off the desk. Behind him stood Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, who looked at her with loathing and pride, respectively. “What’s this, the B team?”

“Speaking of Umbridge’s previous loyalties,” said Malfoy, ignoring her question. “How did you know she’d been in Slytherin?”

Before Lian could say something clever, several things took place. Theodore took the seat beside her and gave the B team a cool gaze, the bell rang and Flitwick called the class to order. Obviously disgruntled, Malfoy and Zabini found seats at the back of the class, while Pansy grinned at Lian and took the seat in front of her. 

Theodore leaned over to whisper to Lian, under the pretense of pouring over their Charms book. “Does Umbridge know about the Hogs Head?”

Lian tilted her head as though deeply intrigued about creating legs on teacups. Under her breath she replied, “Maybe.”

“So that’s it then?” he muttered, sounding almost hopeful. “No more fuss over that group?”

Turning to face him, she blinked once, allowing a genuine grin to cross her face for the first time that morning. “What do you think?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the seer, you tell me.”

Frowning good-naturedly, Lian turned back to the book.  _ I’m not a seer. Not that it matters. _

  
  


Malfoy at least waited until they were queued outside the Potions classroom to reveal the piece of parchment that Umbridge had given him that morning. The Gryffindors were just joining them as he was getting to the ‘good’ part. 

“Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he’s always popping in and out of the Ministry… It’ll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won’t it?”

Lian watched Hermione whisper to Harry and Ron, who were watching Malfoy brag ( _ and lie _ ) all over the dungeons. 

“I mean,” said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his gray eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Ron’s direction, “if it’s a question of influence with the Ministry, I don’t think they’ve got much chance. From what my father says, they’ve been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasely for years…” Lian shoved past Crabbe, who had previously been in her way. She grabbed Malfoy by the front of his robes and yanked him forward to give her access to hiss in his ear.

“Friendly reminder about what I said about taking cheap shots.” she growled, not caring what the others thought, (and their minds were loud. Pansy in particular was begging her not to damage Malfoy’s ‘perfect face’). “Now put that permission slip away before I burn it.”

“I could just get another, after all I am the st-kk!” he was cut off abruptly by his tie shrinking a few inches around his neck as Lian tugged on it. His gray eyes widened as he met her steely gaze. 

The dungeon door opened, Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the line to where Malfoy was resisting Lian’s grip. “What is this?”

Lian readjusted Malfoy’s tie, stepping away from him with her hands up. “I was just fixing Draco’s tie, that’s all.” she said innocently. Malfoy was still struggling to speak so Snape let them enter the dungeon without another word.

Pansy marched up and dragged Lian to a desk, sitting her down and slamming her bag on the table. “What is your problem with Draco? Do you even know the Weasleys? I don’t care what you do half the time but that was over the line!”

Lian cleared her throat and nodded to Snapes desk. He was under inspection by the High Inquisitor today. Pansy waved a hand impatiently and lowered her voice. “Tell me what just happened and why.”

“We’ve got to start brewing a Strengthening Solution,” Lian began to reach into her bag for her potions book. “I’m not getting a detention because you need answers.”

“Just tell me why you care so much about the Weasleys!” she whispered stubbornly. 

“I don’t!” Lian snapped. “I care that people stop dragging Slytherin House through the mud, its occupants included!”

“What are you talking about?” asked Daphne, who was sitting behind them with Theodore. 

Turning back to her cauldron, Lian began adding the ingredients, speaking quietly. “I have wanted to come to Hogwarts since I was a little girl. Now I’m finally here and am chosen by a house that’s ambitious, and sly and famous for its powerful members like the great Merlin himself and yet, everywhere I turn everyone’s calling it the evil house, or the house of dark magic, or something to that effect. I refuse to be a representative of a house that just bowed down and obeyed the rumors and lies that everyone spread about it. If I am to continue my education here, as I hope I can, I’m not going to let anyone, even Slytherin students, believe that because you’re a Slytherin, you’re automatically evil. That you’re not meant for anything other than cheap hits, dark magic and general misdeeds. Slytherin is a House of pride, so why does everyone in it continue to drag it down? Everyone in it is so much better than they let themselves believe, including you three. Including Malfoy and his grunts. Even Zabini.”

Adding the correct amount of Salamander’s blood, which turned her potion the exact shade of orange the potion called for, Lian lapsed into silence, letting her words sink in. 

In front of her, Zabini spoke. “Quella passione. Hai più dentro un dito che tutta la casa.”  _ That passion. You’ve got more in one finger than the entire House. _

“What’d he say?” asked Daphne from behind.

“Tempo per cambiarlo. Non sei d'accordo?”  _ Time to change that. Don’t you agree? _ Lian replied softly.

In the back of the classroom, they could all hear Umbridge quizzing Snape.  “But you were unsuccessful?”

Followed by Snape’s drawl, “ Obviously.”


	14. Letters from Home

Tuesday started out normal. Lian was at lunch when it arrived. She was listening to Pansy telling a joke about a goblin that was hired as a house elf, when a loud screech split the calm environment of the Great Hall. She looked up at the high windows, which was admitting a large bald eagle, covered in red and blue stars. She wanted to hide her face, which would’ve done no good as there was no one else in the Great Hall that hailed from the Land of the Free-to-embarrass-their-children.

But it was not from her parents, which made sense. As the star encrusted eagle landed with a thud before her, knocking over several goblets and platters of food, it deposited a bright blue envelope. On it was written her nickname, given and used by only one individual from home. 

“What on earth?” Someone was saying behind her. 

“I told you Americans deliver mail with eagles,” someone else, probably Millie, was declaring in triumph. 

The eagle also deposited a note that read, “We tried to stop him.” 

“Is that like a Howler?” Theo asked beside her, feeding a piece of chicken to the eagle. 

“Worse,” she moaned. 

The blue envelope was beginning to hum in her hands, and she knew running would only make things worse. She closed her eyes and opened the letter, and took what was coming for her with a grimace. 

Noise emitted from the letter inside, but not just words, an entire orchestra was belting a full ensemble to her. Then, unmercifully loud, came the projected timbre of her ham from home.

 

_ “Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeear kindly Sergeant Krupke you gotta understand _ _   
_ _ It's just our bringin' up-ke that gets us out of hand _ _   
_ _ Our mothers all are junkies, our fathers all are drunks _ _   
_ __ Golly Moses, naturally we're punks!”

 

Anyone sitting in a ten foot perimeter immediately clapped their hands over their ears, staring around at Lian and the eagle, who seemed to be nodding its head in time to the rhythm. The voice, that dived right into the next verse, was joined by at least three new voices, three familiar voices. Lian covered her mouth and nose with her hands, unable to look away from the blue envelope from home. 

_   
_ _ “Gee, Officer Krupke we're very upset _ _   
_ _ We never had the love that every child oughta get _ _   
_ _ We ain't no delinquents, we're misunderstood _ _   
_ _ Deep down inside us there is good _ _   
_ _   
_ _ There is good, there is good _ _   
_ _ There is good, there is untapped good _ _   
_ _ Like inside the worst of us is good!” _ __   
  


Glancing around the hall, Lian saw that every eye was on her and the singing envelope. She even caught sight of Dumbledore up at the staff table, tapping his foot in time. Looking back at the envelope she cursed herself silently. She should’ve anticipated something like this. Especially since she’d only written to her parents and not-

_   
_ _ “Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeear kindly, social worker, they say go earn a buck _ _   
_ _ Like be a soda jerker which means like be a schmuck _ _   
_ _ It's not I'm antisocial, I'm only anti-work _ _   
_ _ Gloryosky, that's why I'm a jerk _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Officer Krupke, you've done it again _ _   
_ _ This boy don't need a job, he needs a year in the pen _ _   
_ _ It ain't just a question of misunderstood _ _   
_ _ Deep down inside him he's no good _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I'm no good _ _   
_ _ We're no good, we're no good _ _   
_ _ We're no earthly good _ _   
_ _ Like the best of us is no damn good _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The trouble is he's crazy, the trouble is he drinks _ _   
_ _ The trouble is he's lazy, the trouble is he stinks _ _   
_ _ The trouble is he's growing, the trouble is he's grown _ _   
_ _ Krupke, we got troubles of our own _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Gee, Officer Krupke we're down on our knees _ _   
_ _ 'Cause no one wants a fellow with a social disease _ _   
_ _ Gee, Officer Krupke what are we to do? _ _   
_ __ Gee, Officer Krupke, Krup you!”

 

With the final, blasting note, the envelope exploded into a shower of red, white and blue confetti. This was followed by a pause, and then there was laughter, but none more than what came out of Lian’s mouth. People had questions, but she didn’t care to answer them. The eagle was still looking at her expectantly, and she could’ve sworn that it winked at her. Then, something clicked in her mind.  _ No. No flipping way! _

Jumping to her feet, she ran the length of the hall, through the corridors and out onto the grounds. The eagle had flown through one of the high windows out of the great hall and circled down to meet her in the courtyard, landing on the ground feet first. Feet, that sprouted from where the talons used to be, which grew into legs and the feathers began to recede and in moments, a boy was standing before her, grinning broadly. “Jason,” she said in disbelief.

“Took you long enough.” 

“I swear, if you flew across the Atlantic I’m going to kick you back to Massachusetts.” she threatened breathlessly. Jason only grinned wider and pulled her into a hug. “I can’t believe you all let Jake send me a Belter. I’m going to hex each of you when I get back,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“What’s the big deal? You two used to send them back and forth all the time at school.”

“Where people are used to it. Here, they’ve never even heard of a Belter--you know it’s a North American thing.” Lian pulled away, frowning at her friend. “You shouldn’t have come--why not send mail the normal way?”

“Jake overheard a conversation from one of those international wizards your mom’s always working with--something about how he was surprised that he hadn’t seen an eagle delivering letters and such. Gave us a great idea!” he shrugged at her. “Come on, girl, lighten up! We miss you, is all. Here-” he reached into his coat and withdrew several envelopes. “One from Vera, from little Phi-phi, from Matteo and me and Jake and even Adam.” he finished with a wink.

Chuckling ruefully, Lian accepted them and hid them away in her bag. “I wish you came on a weekend. As it is, I’ve got Care of Magical Creatures in five minutes.”

“Whoa, watch out for the scholar,” Jason waved his hands teasingly. “What’s that class for?”

“They teach about magical creatures, to help understand them, what threatens them, where they’re found and what they’re meant to do. It’s everything my Great Uncle hoped it would be.” she answered, unable to keep the note of joy out of her voice. “Really though, you should-”

“Where did he come from?” Lian turned her head to see her Housemates standing a few strides away. She chastised herself for not being more aware of her surroundings. How long had they stood there? The speaker had been Millie, but she was accompanied by Pansy and Daphne as well. Just inside the corridor, Lian could see a slight, shadowy figure she knew to be Theo. 

“I came from across the pond,,” Jason replied quickly, pointing his chin at the three girls. “Who might you charmin’ ladies be?”

_ Oh brother.  _ “Guys, this is my friend from Ilvermorny, Jason King.” Lian spoke up before things could escalate. “Jason, I’d introduce them but we have class. You really should go-”

“I’m staying in the village until tomorrow. Jake says I'm not allowed back in the country unless I arrive with your reply; you know, like the old days.” Jason explained with a wink. “I’ll see you later.” 

Before Lian could protest, he stepped back and jumped into the air, transforming before her eyes, and that of her Housemates. As the eagle took off into the atmosphere, performing a completely unnecessary barrel-roll, Lian was left to deal with the onlookers. “Right. Care of Magical Creatures then? I believe it's this-”

“You're friends with an Animagus?!” Daphne exclaimed, and Lian couldn't tell if she was thrilled or terrified. Sighing, Lian began the trek to the wooden hut at the edge of the forest. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“When's a good time to say, ‘Oh, by the way, I've got a friend back home who can sprout feathers when he likes’?” Lian responded as they rounded the greenhouses. “And before you can ask: no Pansy, he is not my boyfriend.” 

Pansy made a noise of disappointment, meanwhile Millie had a different question. “What about Jake?”

“Jake is my little brother.” She said shortly, trying to close the matter. But it was far from closed. The point being, her new Housemates just experienced a wake-up call; they knew nothing about the American in their midst. 

 

During their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where they were supposed to be reading quietly in Wilbert Slinkhard’s book of nonsense, Lian seized the chance to read the letters from home, rather than the stupidly dull book. Umbridge was going over her Inquisitor notes at her desk, anyway, so she needn’t worry about being reprimanded. Ignoring Theo’s expression, she took out the letters one by one and perused them.

 

_ Dear Jules, _

_ Hope you enjoyed the Belter, and I hope it arrived during a meal because someone told me once that the British have never heard of Belter mail before. They can take their nasty Howlers and va' fa Napoli, to paraphrase Matteo. It was really weird showing up on campus without you, I had no idea you hadn't told any of your friends that this was THE year. So, thank you for that. I was planning on singing the National anthem to you but Jack had a better idea. You won't believe that and you're right it's not my best lie. Phi-phi was sorted into Wampus, so I guess we’ve got to keep an eye on her. Stop wasting ink on mom and dad, I’m the one who’s curious. Mom has all the faith in you and dad’s convinced you’ll be dead before you can take your OWLs, again.  _

_ Seriously. Write me every week, or I'll send Jason AND Adam after you.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Jake _

_ P.S. I passed Kamau’s class!  _

_ P.P.S. and Phi-Phi scratched her way into it. Couple years from now we should all go to a zoo and wreck havoc.  _

 

_ Dear Lian,  _

_ Jake says I have to write you. Says you’re being neglected by the British. As if you'd let them. I bet you strutted into that old castle like you owned the place. Bet you’ve made a friend, and a huge pile of animosity ridden teenagers. How does their sorting differ from ours? Anders swears they use an enchanted hat or something. If that's true, do you have to pull the symbol of your house out of it? That should prove to be exciting--how many lions can emerge from one hat in a night, do you think? _

_ Write when you can. Or not. Whatever.  _

_ Matteo _

 

_ Dear Ju-ju, _

_ I'm not a squib! I got into Wampus house-ha! I made friends with a girl named Tina, who says that animagus is a waste of magic, but I think she's only saying that because Professor K rejected her application to his class. Tina’s kind of negative. She ignores me on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. But that's okay, because J-J looks out for me. I think. What's Pigpimples like? Are the classes harder? I mean I know you’ll keep up no matter what, but still. I hope you liked the Belter- I helped arrange it; J-J, Matt, Jason and some surly looking guy actually did the loud stuff. J-J says the longer it goes without being opened the higher the volume is. That's why he asked Jason to deliver it. We don't want you to go deaf.  _

_ Can’t wait to hear your reply! _

_ Phi-Phi _

 

_ Dear Lian, _

_ WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME YOU WERE ABANDONING ME? Geez, I'm left to fend for myself in our group. It's not the same without you but don't tell Matt I said that. Despite what he’ll tell you, (I can see his piece of paper over his shoulder), he misses you a lot. The first week he pretended you were still here and it was awkward. Specially when he started holding conversations and arguments with you entirely in Italian. He refuses to believe that you’ll be gone indefinitely, and to be honest, I think I'm in the same boat. This is only going to last a year, right? _

_ Right? _

_ Love Vera _

 

_ Dear Julie-Q _

_ If you're reading this, you’ve already spoken to me. What I won't have told you is how much fun it was to watch your face and hear you laugh as you heard the Belter. If you’ve made some cute contacts of the female persuasion, hook me up!  _

_ And don't be a stranger. Really, it's killing us.  _

_ Jason _

 

_ Dear Lian, _

_ Hope you're having a blast. Be safe.  _

_ Adam _

 

Smiling, she shoved them back into her bag along with  _ Defensive Magical Theory _ as the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. She’d have to seriously consider replying with a Belter in the morning. 


	15. The D.A.

Harry caught her just as she finished dinner, saying in a rush, “I don't know if you’ve heard, but we’re meeting tonight. There’s a hidden room on the 7th floor corridor-” he proceeded to explain how one finds a room that doesn't exist else called upon. “Meet is there at eight o’clock!” He finished in a whisper. 

Dashing away up the marble staircase, he left Lian with a few things to think about. If she went to the meeting, she was officially disobeying educational thingamajig number twenty-four. If they were discovered, she’d likely get expelled and be forced to return to Ilvermorny with her tail between her legs. 

_ But think of the things you’d learn. The people you could reach. Not to mention, they’d exclude Slytherin House altogether if I don't go.  _ She thought back to the song the hat had sung, the one everyone seemed to have forgotten. 

“... _ I sort you into Houses _ _   
_ _ Because that is what I’m for, _ _   
_ _ But this year I’ll go further, _ _   
_ _ Listen closely to my song: _ _   
_ _ Though condemned I am to split you _ _   
_ __ Still I worry that it’s wrong... ”

Judging from what Lian had witnessed in the last six weeks: it  _ was _ wrong. There was an ugly disconnect from one Hogwarts House to the next, it was only going to get worse unless…  _ Well, no one else is gonna step up. For now. Screw Umbridge and her rules. I'm joining the rebellion! _

Five minutes to eight found her on the seventh floor corridor with the tapestry as Harry described. She crossed back and forth, concentrating hard. On her third round, she looked at the blank stretch of wall which had revealed an ornate door. Grasping the handle, she entered and shut it quickly behind her, gazing around in awe. Inside was a large room, lit by torches along the walls; which were lined with wooden bookcases. There were no chairs, just large throw pillows on the floor. At the far end of the room, Lian spotted a few shelves filled with all sorts of ‘Dark’ detector items such as Secrecy Sensors, a Foe-Glass and Sneakoscopes.

Hermione was already tucked away in a corner, reading one of the books off the shelves. Nearly everyone from the Hog’s Head was there, sitting on a cushion and waiting for Harry to start. She spotted one near Ron’s older brothers and seated herself, giving the twins a friendly grin. They gave her an appraising look as though they were considering buying her, before one of them whispered, “You’re going to have to explain to everyone what happened at lunch, you know.”

Lian sniffed dismissively. “I don’t have to explain anything to anyone.” she watched them frown down at her before winking. “That doesn’t mean I won’t.” Her attention was caught by Harry moving across the room to lock the door; preventing anyone else from coming in. The click echoed across the room and everyone fell silent. Even the lioness marked her page and set  _ Jinxes for the Jinxed _ aside. 

Harry welcomed them all, feeling obviously anxious and awkward; Lian didn’t need her abilities to see that. He was just getting used to talking when Hermione started to interrupt him with her tell-tale-hand. 

“What, Hermione?”

“I think we ought to elect a leader,” said Hermione.

“Harry’s leader,”  said a Ravenclaw girl with long dark hair,  looking at Hermione as though she were mad. 

“Yes, but I think we ought to vote on in properly,” said Hermione, unperturbed. “It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So-everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?”

Lian raised her hand, along with what looked like everyone else, even sour-faced-Smith from Hufflepuff.

“I also think we ought to have a name,” Hermione pressed on, much to Harry’s annoyance.  “It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don’t you think?”

“Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?”  suggested the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team hopefully.

“Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?” suggested Fred.  Lian and George laughed.

“I was thinking,” said Hermione, frowning at Fred, “more of a name that didn’t tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings.”

“The Defense Association?” said the same Ravenclaw girl from earlier. Lian watch Harry look at her, the same way Goyle looked at kidney pie when it was half-way down the table.  “The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we’re talking about?”

“Yeah, the D.A.’s good,”  said a girl with vivid red hair and so many freckles, she could only be related to the twins and Ron. A younger sister, maybe?  “Only let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army because that’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?”

As everyone made their approval known, Lian smirked over at the presumed female Weasley.  _ Ooh, I like this one. _

“All in favor of the D.A.?” said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. “That’s a majority--motion passed!”

She pinned the piece of paper with all of their names on it on the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY across the top in large letters.  Lian’s eyes fell on the last signature with a slight twinge in her gut. She wondered if Theo noticed her absence in the common room.

“Right,” said Harry, “shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is  _ Expelliarmus, _ you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it’s pretty basic but I’ve found it really useful-”

“Oh  _ please, _ ” said Sour-Face-Smith,  rolling his eyes and folding his arms. “I don’t think  _ Expelliarmus  _ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?”

“I’ve used it against him,” said Harry quietly. “It saved my life last June.”

Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet. 

Lian gazed steadily at Harry, trying to gage his thoughts. She didn’t get a full memory, more of a snapshot; of  _ Harry back in the graveyard, pointing his wand at the dark wizard, a stream of red light shooting out of the boys; a flash of green coming from the wand of yew.  _

“But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave,” Harry said.

Smith did not move. Nor did anybody else.

“Okay,” said Harry. “I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice.”

At once, everybody got to their feet and divided up. Lian spotted Longbottom looking around helplessly as everyone else grabbed a partner. Maneuvering around people, (who either didn’t look at her or did but not in a nice way,) she tapped his shoulder and smiled pleasantly. “Want to practice with me?”

She knew he glanced around desperately before finally looking back at her, knew that just by wearing Slytherin robes she terrified the boy, but ignored all that when he accepted her. They found a place to stand ten paces apart in the huge room, and on Harry’s mark, Longbottom raised his wand at her and cried, “ _ Expelliarmus!” _ along with several other people in the room. 

Lian’s wand twitched in her grip but did not leave her otherwise. She wondered for a moment if she had an unfair advantage; wands with thunderbird feather cores could protect themselves without their witch or wizard actually casting a spell, but- _ If he actually manages to disarm me, then he’ll be all the more powerful when he fights someone without a thunderbird feather in their wand. _

“Try again,” she called encouragingly to Longbottom. 

“You as well,” he replied, indicating that she hadn’t disarmed him or even tried. 

“On three? One...two...three!”  _ Expelliarmus!  _ She pointed her wand at the Gryffindor boy, casting the charm silently as she did with every spell. His wand jumped out of his hand, but only landed a few feet away from him. They both looked at it, confused. “Huh.” 

“Well, that’s more than I can do,” Longbottom commented fairly. He went to pick up his wand and they began again. Lian managed to disarm him a few times but never enough to make his wand soar into her hands.  She wasn’t terribly surprised either; Charms wasn’t her best subject. Occasionally, she would glance around the room to see how everyone else was fairing. Harry was making rounds to do the exact same thing; spending time helping where help was needed. The twins had been pranking Sour-Faced-Smith so that every time he opened his mouth, his wand would fly out of his hand. Harry put a stop to this quickly, much to Lian’s disappointment.

_ “Expelliarmus! _ ” cried Longbottom, and, as punishment for not paying attention, Lian’s wand took leave of her hand, landing in Longbottom’s.  “I DID IT!” he said gleefully. “I’ve never done it before-I DID IT!”

“That’s amazing! Good job!” Lian called, meeting him halfway to retrieve her wand. She had half a mind to tell him why it was so incredible, but something cautioned her against it. “I mean, I kind of wasn’t paying attention, but still-” she twirled her wand between her fingers. “This is a stubborn little piece. It barely listens to me as it is.”

Longbottom looked at her with new eyes. “My wand doesn’t like me either-it was my father’s.”

“So, it didn’t choose you?” Lian asked, tilting her head. 

“No, I just sort of inherited it.” he said, shifting his feet. “You as well?” he nodded at her carved wand.

Shaking her head, Lian replied, “No, it definitely chose me. Even if it disagrees with nearly every spell I cast.” she gave a hollow laugh. “My wand prefers Transfiguration, where I actually prefer defensive magic.”

“What do you mean, your wand prefers it? It's just a magical object, a conduit for your magical power, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s a separate entity, with its own agenda. It just needs a willing partner to accomplish it. A willing partner such as a-” she waved a hand between them. “-witch or wizard.” She pointed at Longbottom’s wand. “It won’t listen to you because it didn’t choose you. Your strengths don’t align with its agenda, and that’s why it resists you.”

“How do you know all this?” he asked, sounding faintly impressed. 

“At Ilvermorny we’ve got a History of Wandlore class, taught by an actual Wandmaker.” replied Lian, crossing her arms. “Professor Wolfe actually crafted my wand, a few weeks before I was born. It’d been waiting for me to arrive at Ilvermorny.”

“You talk as though you’re still an Ilvermorny student.” Longbottom observed. “Do you think you’ll return there after this year?”

Lian bit her lip, hesitating. Harry had wandered over to their corner of the room. “Well? Have you disarmed each other?”

“Yes, actually, Professor Potter,” said Lian, giving him a smile. “Didn’t you see Longbottom a few minutes ago?”

“Don’t call me that, and well done Neville!” Longbottom grinned at the praise. “Get back to it, then.” 

“Hey, Harry,” Hermione called from the other end of the room, “have you checked the time?”

Harry gave a start as he checked his watch. He blew a whistle, stopping everybody else from Disarming each other.  “Well, that was pretty good,”  he called to the room at large. Everyone was looking over at Harry, Longbottom and a few glares were given to Lian. She smiled like the Cheshire cat. “ But we’ve overrun, we’d better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?”

“Sooner!” said Dean Thomas eagerly and many people  including Lian  nodded in agreement. 

The Gryffindor captain however, said at once, “ The Quidditch season’s about to start, we need team practices too!”

“Let’s say next Wednesday night, then,” said Harry, “and we can decide on additional meetings then...Come on, we’d better get going…”

As everyone gathered themselves together in preparation to leave, he then pulled out a strange piece of parchment and tapped it with his wand, muttering, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Lian, who’d been standing nearby, watched as ink drew itself across the parchment until it created what looked like a map of the castle and all its floors. “That’s a neat trick,” she commented, causing Harry to jump. Stepping closer, she saw little footprints moving all around the paper, marked by names. “That’s a  _ really _ neat trick.” Harry pulled the paper away from her view, but not before she spotted a few secrets. 

Harry used the map to make sure they all left without getting caught, sending Lian through last, after the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs had left. “So, Nott’s a no-show,” he said as she approached the door with its brass handle. “Are you sure we can trust him?”

Lian turned her head to look the Gryffindor trio over, before looking Harry in the eye. She felt his pride at the success of this lesson, felt his excitement over how long it had taken the dark haired Ravenclaw girl to leave, sensed his apprehension at being discovered by someone, namely Nott, betraying them to Umbridge. “As of this moment, I trust Theodore Nott more than I trust any of you.” she said evenly, keeping her voice steady. “Make no mistake: I do believe you, Harry. I believe in what you’re trying to do. But I also believe that Theo will come on one of these nights. And I believe that other Slytherins will join as well. I can only hope that they will not be treated with the low key hostility I was entreated to tonight.” She bowed her head, and then departed from the Room of Requirement. 

 

She did not return to the Slytherin common room as she likely should’ve done. Instead, she descended four floors and found a statue of a one-eyed witch with a large hump. Moving to stand behind it, she used a series of spells on the witch, trying to get it to do as she’d seen on the map. If she was right, there was a passageway under it. The statue was more stubborn that she cared to admit, but in the end, she managed to persuade the hump to open for her.

Riding the stone slide on her back, she landed a short while later in a dark passageway.  _ Lumos! _ Not that there was much to see, but at least she could walk with confidence down the tunnel. 

She couldn’t be certain of how long she wandered in the dark, but eventually the path started to lead upwards until her head bumped against a wooden surface. Lifting the trapdoor up, she put her wandlight out, gazing around at what appeared to be a storeroom. She pulled herself up, dropping the square of wood quietly behind her. Guessing that her way out would be locked due to closing time, Lian inspected the window well as a means of escape. The lock was rusted over and broke easily, allowing her to access the outside. 

Hogsmeade’s nightlife was nothing to brag about, least of all for a New Yorker, but she wasn’t out here to party. Locating the Three Broomsticks, she entered in and found her target immediately. 

Jason King, in all his glory, flirting with the establishments matron, who was way out of his league. She watched the pitiful scene for a few moments before enunciating to the room at large. 

“ _ It's a crooked game we're playin' _ _   
_ _ One we'll never lose _ _   
_ _ Long as suckers don't mind payin' _ _   
_ __ Just to get bad news…”

Jason whirled around in his seat at the bar, grinning from ear to ear.  “There she is! For a second there I thought you were gonna make me wait until morning; thought these British people brainwashed you into behaving.”

Lian snorted. “As if!” she claimed a table in the back of the pub, sitting beside Jason with a contented sigh. “I wrote replies to each of you during my dinner hour.” she stated, handing him a single, large envelope. “Give Sera a big hug for me when you get back.” 

Jason tittered. “Which won’t be happening until-” he waved a blue piece of paper at her, holding its accompanying envelope in his other hand.

Lian plucked the paper from his hand, took a quill out of her bag and a bottle of silver ink. “Here we go,” she said briskly. As she wrote, Jason talked, telling her about what she’d missed while she’d been playing ‘Transfer student’. In a few minutes, she’d finished up, sealing the envelope with a spell. “There. Now, this will only open for Jake, so don’t try to tamper with it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Jason sarcastically, taking the Belter from her. “I’ll be leaving at first light. Want an escort back to the castle?”

She sighed. “I've got Charms in the morning.”

“You suck at Charms.”

“I do not! I'm just not as good as I am at other subjects.”

“You changed the subject.” 

Lian glanced at him, thinking. “Fine. On one condition.”

“Name it, sweetheart,” he replied with ease. 

“You tell me how you got to Hogwarts. It's hidden to outsiders.” She repeated a phrase she’d read somewhere in the library. “And if you say you flew here I will kick you.” 

“Well I did,” he said, scooting away from her to dodge her foot. “No, I mean floo- as in the fireplace network. I got special permission to travel across the ocean.”

Lian stared at him. “No you didn't.” 

“You're right, but I did use the floo. Mostly.” He stood up and offered her his hand, which she took after sending him a glare. 

“Just be careful going back.” She grumbled as they left the Three Broomsticks together, starting to make their way up the cobblestone street. 

“Julie-Q, you know me; careful is not in my jurisdiction.” He replied.  “Enough talk; let's run!”

“You don't run, you flap.”

“How long has it been since you’ve let the beast out?” He asked, ignoring her statement.  

“Well they’re not exactly indigenous to the area,” she answered vaguely. 

“Not since August?” 

“Yep.” 

Jason did not reply, only stepping back to transform. His amber eagle eyes gazed at her invitingly.  _ You know you want to.  _

As the majestic bird of prey took off into the night sky, Lian allowed herself to let loose and race after him. 


	16. Interestingly Uninterested

“Where were you last night?” Pansy hissed behind her textbook. Charms was a wonderful class to have private conversations because Flitwick liked to let them have their way after a while. They were meant to be working on their Banishing spellwork, which, after Crabbe accidentally banished their professor, became a rather tricky affair. Flitwick was busy giving his offender detention and extra homework when Pansy decided enough was enough. “You never came back to the dormitory!”

“Bet she was with that boy,” said Millie, who was grinning widely. 

“Believe what you will,” Lian grumbled, trying to banish the pillow she’d been given to practice on. “You certainly won’t believe anything I say.”

Beside her, Theo was giving her the cold shoulder. He hadn’t spoken to her since before lunch yesterday, and she sensed that he was mad at her. She only had to focus and she could probably understand everything he was thinking, but since he’d agreed to trust and be trusted, she’d tried to avoid reading his mind. A decision she was presently regretting, but would get over in due course. 

“You never explained why he was here, or what happened yesterday,” Daphne chipped in from her left. She’d re-mastered Banishing spells quickly and was working on a tricking Transfiguration essay.

“Can’t a girl get some mail without everyone going ballistic?”

“Not in song form. I’d never even heard of a song like the one played out yesterday. Why would anyone send you something like that?” Pansy pressed. 

“Alright, fine!” Lian snapped, not out of impatience but mostly because she was exhausted and short tempered. The beast within tensed, ready to spring out at any moment.  _ Quiet you. Last night was a one time thing. I just have to figure out how to explain my history with Belters without admitting to being a Legilimens user.  _ “Mail like that is called a Belter. An American Wizard invented them a few years ago as a gimmick, something to send to other people on holidays or birthdays or something like that; my brother and I found that you could actually use them to send any old song so long as you remembered how it went.” She glanced at the clock on the wall.  _ Two minutes. _ “It was a means of embarrassment at first, I got one from my little brother my first day at school. So, I waited a year and sent one to him on his first day, and then we kind of had a singing war, if you will, trying to see who could make the other laugh more, or get the other one into trouble. I haven’t written him since I came to Hogwarts and I guess he missed me.”  _ That sounded believable, right?  _ The beast within shrugged unhelpfully.

“Aw,” cooed Daphne, as though she’d just spotted a kitten.

“But why the guy? And how is he an Animagus at our age?”  _ Dangerous waters. _

“Oh, well, we have a mutual friend that said it was impossible to become an Animagus before you were an adult, and Jason’s the type of person who will do things strictly because you told him he couldn’t.” Lian answered quickly, as though getting it out all at once would be less painful. “You know, like making the trip up here, when it’s supposed to be impossible.”

“So you saw him last night?” asked Millie slyly.

“Briefly, just to send him on his way.” Lian replied curtly. The bell rang, cutting their conversation off, and Lian dashed out of the classroom before she could be interrogated further. Unfortunately, she was followed by the one person who had listened without saying a thing. Waiting until they were far enough away from the rest, Theo nudged her with his elbow.

“You were with Potter,” it was not a question. 

“Yes.”

Glancing around, Theo looked down at her, raising a single eyebrow. “...And?”

Lian gave him a small smile. “It was cool.”

“You went without telling me,” he said in a rush, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Lian gave him a surprised look. 

“Are you upset because I went or because I went without your consent?” She asked, seeking clarity. 

“I'm not-” he tried to deny it but gave up before he could form the words. “You didn't even bother asking if I wanted to go, that's all.”

“Would you have come?”

“No.” He caught sight of Lian’s expression and curled his lip. “Maybe; it's not for you to decide for me!”

“Okay! Sorry! What are you doing next Wednesday?” 

“Nothing.”

“Do you want to go with me?” Lian asked, not allowing herself to hope. 

“No.” He said stubbornly. “Thanks for asking.” His tone was angry but his words were kind. Lian waved her hands about as she mutely wrestled with her bewilderment. She caught sight of his grin before he wiped it off his face. 

_ What just happened?  _

 

The next two weeks flew like an eagle delivering a Belter; swiftly and urgently. Montague was growing more and more anxious and difficult to deal with as the upcoming Quidditch match drew nearer. Meanwhile Theo had made sure he was at least invited to the last few D.A. meetings, not that he would accept. This still confused Lian but she allowed it to slide.

The D.A. Lessons themselves were progressing slowly but surely; after the Disarming spell, Harry had them work on  _ Impedimenta,  _ and then  _ Reducto _ , which proved to be an interesting lesson. Not to disparage Harry’s method, but Lian was impatient to work on more potent spellwork; she almost hadn't accepted the fake Galleon Hermione had charmed. It would show the next time and date of each meeting as they were never consistent. Accept it she did, though mostly she hung on the side and watched the others work. She’d been slightly appalled to see how many of them couldn't do such basic spells. Still, if the lioness was willing to humble herself and practice, Lian could hardly turn her back. 

The meetings were put on hold the week leading up to the Quidditch match, which was just as well, Lian thought. Malfoy had indeed refrained from striking out at the Gryffindor team, as had Warrington, Montague, Crabbe and Goyle-however, Lian was powerless to stop the rest of her House from hexing the opposing team. One of the Gryffindor chasers, Alicia Spinnet, was sent to the hospital wing after an incident with a hair-thickening-jinx. Several eye-witnesses pointed the blame at Miles Bletchley, who had retired his position as keeper for his final year, but Professor Snape gave him no punishment. McGonagall refrained from giving the Gryffindors homework, in an effort to give her side more time to practice. Which they couldn't do, because Professor Snape booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin all week. 

Lian got dizzy trying to keep score, finding herself on the pitch during most of her free time, practicing with Montague and Warrington. On one such occasion, they were visited by their Head of House, his black robes billowing around him as he made his way up the pitch. Montague, while in possession of the Quaffle, dived down to meet him, followed closely by Warrington and Lian. 

“Where is the rest of your team, Montague?” Professor Snape asked, peering around the pitch. 

“Taking Greengrass to the hospital wing,” answered Montague. “Goyle broke her arm with his bat.” 

Professor Snape’s lip curled, but he let the matter slide. Evidently there was something much more pressing on his mind. “Well I'm afraid I must rob you of your new chaser,” he looked directly at Lian. “Ms. Kowalski, there is an urgent matter we must discuss.” 

Hesitantly, Lian dismounted her broom, gave her captain a last look before following the vampire from the black lagoon. “Professor?” She called after he did not stop walking at the edge of the field. In fact, he wasn't even headed towards the castle, he was making a beeline for the Black Lake.  _ What's he gonna do? Drown me? _ “Professor Snape?”

He kept her in suspense until they reached the bank, where the perfectly still surface of the lake could simultaneously inspire calm and fear. When he spoke, it was in a low voice, “Ms. Kowalski, I have spent a great many years ensuring the safe education of my students and the continued longevity of this school.” He paused, as though steeling himself for what he was about to do. Lian reached into her boot and pulled out her wand just in case. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t hexed a teacher before...just not in Scotland, yet. “It has not escaped my notice that you are an accomplished Legilimens.” It was a statement, not an accusation. She could not be certain what she was expected to do now that he’d outed her. 

“And what? That threatens the school?” she prompted.

“Not entirely, until you prove you can be trusted.”

Lian tried not to roll her eyes. He was still her Head of House, which meant that he could have a hand in her expulsion. “So you can’t allow another Legilimens run around the school unless you know what their intentions are? That’s too bad.”

“Children at your age do not normally learn Legilimency,” he explained, turning to face her at last. “One can only wonder...why you would need it… unless there’s something you need to hide.”

“You think I’m going to what? Blow up the school?” Lian joked, trying to lighten the air. It did the opposite, as Professor Snape tried to dig into her mind to see if she was being serious. “I’m not.” she said quickly, feeling his attempts to probe at her memories already in action. “And you can stop that.”

“In the interest of the welfare of this school, and as your Head of House; I insist.” he replied coldly. His black eyes bore into hers, and she could feel him forcing his way into her mind.  _ Calm like a pool, reflective, not offensive. _ She took a deep breath and steadied herself against his attempts, determined to shut him out. He was much stronger than she was, but still, it was her mind, and she managed to steer him off course. Suddenly, she felt like she was falling, though her body hadn’t moved. She could see glimpses of her childhood as though she and Snape were walking through her past.

_Lian was two years old, bouncing on the knee of her Great Uncle; a wizard with kind eyes and a warm smile. A young woman with curly blonde hair strutted into the room in time to hear the old wizard’s knee pop loudly. The woman scooped Lian up in her arms, exclaiming, “Uh oh, Julie, you broke Uncle Newt.” Lian struggled in the woman’s grasp, trying to return to her Great Uncle._ _  
__Lian was six, sitting in a shed with the same wizard, holding a silver egg as it hatched before her very eyes. Her excitement was mirrored in the eyes of her Great Uncle, which adopted a tender expression as the Occamy broke free of its shell._ _  
___Lian was seven, screaming and clutching at her head, curled up on the floor. Her magic was manifesting, explosive and violent. She could hear so many voices, so many thoughts and emotions and desires pouring themselves into her mind and she couldn’t fit them all, she just wanted them to stop. Stop! STOP!

Finally getting a grasp on her mental defenses, she locked her mind out from this intruder, wrenching herself free from the link he’d been trying to establish. She found that she was sweating from the exertion, breathing erratically, and her head was throbbing. Daring to meet Professor Snape’s unmerciful gaze, she panted, “I don’t care what you believe. You stay out of my head!”  _ Or I will start digging through yours! _

Snape stared at her for a long while, cold, calculating, and stone-faced. Finally, he looked away. “I am not finished with you,” he said. “I am however, willing to let you return to your activities as usual. In the future, it will be better for you if you do not resist.” he added snidely. “If you have nothing to hide, then you shouldn’t feel the need to defend yourself.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but her brain ached so terribly that it gave one final throb, and she felt her legs collapse beneath her, and she knew no more. 

 

When Lian awoke, she was aware of three things: she was lying on her back on something soft; bright light was tapping at her eyelids, and there was something heavy on her legs. She turned her head before she opened her eyes, so she wouldn’t inadvertently blind herself, and took stock of her surroundings. She recognized the hospital wing after a few breaths, and saw several textbooks lying across the foot of her bed. It looked like someone had been doing their homework there. The hospital wing doors at the end creaked open, and with it came two curious faces and a very sleepy one. Daphne and Astoria dragged Theodore to her bedside once they saw that she was conscious.

“You’re finally awake!” Astoria exclaimed. 

“What happened to you?” Daphne asked, pulling up a chair. “Professor Snape said you collapsed, but wouldn’t give specifics.”

Theo gave her a lazy nod before he began collecting his Ancient Ruins homework. Hiding a chuckle in a sigh, Lian asked a more pressing question. “How long was I out?”

The Greengrass sisters exchanged a glance. “A few days.”

Lian sat bold upright, tossing the blankets back. “The match!”

Theo grunted. “She’s fine.”

Astoria pushed her back a little bit. “It doesn’t start for a few hours. Tell us what happened.”

Lian fell back on the pillows, and stared up at the ceiling, trying to think of a decent reply. “I over exerted myself during Quidditch practice and got dehydrated. Last thing I remember was being light-headed and then...nothing.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” asked Daphne, squinting at her.

“Because you, like nearly everyone else who’s met me in the last two months, are under the quizzical impression that I live a more interesting and exciting life than the rest. It’s okay though; things  _ can _ be just that simple.” She looked to Astoria. “Don’t tell me Montague’s replacing me for this game.”

“Not anymore he’s not,” replied Astoria, a new determined growl in her voice. “Let’s go!”

 


	17. Ladies and Gentlemen...Please Welcome...the King!

“There is something you should know…” Astoria said as they made their way out onto the grounds. Lian had helped herself to a quick breakfast before rushing to the common room to grab her broom and gear. She’d met up with Astoria again in the entrance hall and they began the walk together.  “While you were down...Malfoy and Zabini...they sort of...um…well, did that.” she pointed at a group of Slytherins making their way to the stands. 

Lian looked to where she was pointing; the Slytherins in question were wearing their team colors and accessorized the look with silver badges shaped like crowns.  _ That looks like trouble. _

Upon entering the locker room, Lian’s eyes landed the odd man, Adrian Pucey, who was trying to fit back into his old Quidditch robes. She cleared her throat loudly, causing all eyes to find her, before she jerked her head at Pucey. “Out.” Oddly enough, he looked relieved and made a quick exit. 

“You sure you’re fit to play?” asked Montague, his arms crossed as she began to pull on her arm and shin guards. 

“I could have left half my body in the hospital wing and still play better than Pucey,” she replied fiercely. Montague gave her an approving nod, and turned away.

It was at that moment that Malfoy swaggered into the room, whistling a tune cheerfully. He noticed Lian and smiled mockingly. “Ah! Look who it is, boys: the comatose Quidditch player. Are you ready to harmonize with us out there?” Malfoy taunted as she pulled on her gear. “We’ve got an extra badge for you, Kowalski. It really shows House unity, don't you think? And after all, your singing Howler gave us the idea in the first place.” 

Grinding her teeth, Lian ignored him. “Just catch the Snitch,  _ furetto _ .” She couldn’t be sure if he spoke Italian, but evidently even if he didn’t, the word didn’t need translating. His face went all red and he began changing into his Quidditch robes in a huff. 

Once they were all set, Montague led them out onto the field, their brooms over their shoulders, and lined them up on the center mark. The sunlight dazzled them, while in the stands, only those wearing emerald green cheered. Some of them were even singing. It was to the same tune that Malfoy had been whistling and-  _ Oh no. _ Lian just caught sight of what was engraved on the crown shaped badges. ‘Weasley is our King’. 

From where she stood between Warrington and Malfoy, she growled, clutching her Skyshatter. Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing behind Montague like the bodyguards they were born to be, were swinging their new beaters bats. When her growl reached them they both froze, and she could feel her teammates glance sideways at her.

“Did you just-” Astoria began, but was drowned out by the uproar of cheers and hoots as the Gryffindor team marched onto the field in single file. As they came to face off at the center line, Lian maintained her grouchy expression--which matched the surly faces of her team. Most of the Gryffindors look a little shocked to see her, with the exception of Harry and Ron--who seemed more concerned with Ron at the moment. Lian tried to catch his eye and send him an encouraging smile, but her mouth seemed to be malfunctioning.

“Captains shake hands,” ordered the umpire, Madam Hooch, as  Johnson and Montague reached each other.  Lian took notice of how Montague tried to crush Johnsons fingers in his, but to the other captains’ credit, she did not wince.  “Mount your brooms…”

Madam Hooch placed her whistle in her mouth and blew.

The balls were released and the fourteen players shot upward;  Astoria and Ron shot off toward their goal hoops. Crabbe shot the first bludger at Harry, who dodged as he zoomed high, taking off in a wide lap around the pitch. That was all Lian could bother to pay attention to, as Johnson was in possession of the Quaffle. 

“And it’s Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years but she still won’t go out with me-”  Lian grinned as she recognized the voice of Lee Jordan over the megaphone.

“JORDAN!” yelled Professor McGonagall.

“Just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest-and she’s ducked Warrington, she’s passed Montague, she’s-ouch-been hit from behind by a bludger from Crabbe … ”

Lian dived and snatched the Quaffle from the air, speeding in the opposite direction. She heard a loud THWACK, and barrel-rolled to the left, successfully dodging a bludger that one of the twins had fired at her. 

“Weasley’s bludger misses her by inches!” Lee commented, sounding both amazed and disappointed. “Kowalski soars up the pitch at high acceleration--what’s that she’s flying anyway? Kowalski passes to Warrington, Warrington headed for goal! HE SHOOTS - HE SCORES!” 

Lian watched as the Slytherin section of the stands roared in approval, their singing only growing in volume. As she swooped low to avoid another bludger, she actually heard a couple of the lyrics.

_ Weasley cannot save a thing _

_ He cannot block a single ring _

_ That’s why Slytherin’s all sing _

_ Weasley is our King _

 

_ Weasley was born in a bin _

_ He always lets the Quaffle in _

_ Weasley will make sure we win _

_ Weasley is our King _

Feeling a sudden rush of anger seize up inside of her, Lian wracked her brain, trying to come up with a solution. It was still a little fuzzy from her recent overexertion, but she came up with quite a few ideas on what to do--none of which she could actually execute. Shooting back up the pitch to catch up with Spinnet, she tried to tune the song out. She only hoped that Ron would manage to do the same. 

“--and Alicia passes back to Angelina!” Lee shouted. “Come on now, Angelina--looks like she’s got just the Keeper to beat!--SHE SHOOTS--SHE--aaaaah…”

Astoria had saved the goal; she threw the Quaffle to Montague who sped off in a zigzag fashion between Spinnet and Bell. The choir below grew louder the closer he got to Ron. Lian accelerated her broom to fly as guard around her captain, while Warrington ran interference with the bludgers, as they’d practiced.

“And its Montague with the Quaffle, Montague heading for goal, he’s made it out of bludger range with just the Keeper ahead.  So, it’s the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team--come on, Ron!” The Slytherins screamed in delight as Montague scored, straight through the central hoop.  “Slytherin score!” came Lee’s voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. “So that’s ten-nil to Slytherin--bad luck Ron…”

Lian took off after Bell, who had taken possession of the Quaffle. Warrington blocked the Gryffindor chaser, which caused her to drop the Quaffle. Lian dived, but was beaten to the ball by Johnson. The Gryffindor captain took off towards Astoria, but was hit in the back by a bludger from Goyle. The Quaffle dropped once again and this time it was Lian who caught it--cradling it between her ankles. 

“And its Kowalski in possession, with a bit of fancy footwork involved--I’ve never seen a chaser carry the Quaffle like that before!” Lee laughed into the megaphone. “Is that how they play in America? Kowalski dodges a bludger sent by George Weasley, I mean, Fred Weasley, oh who cares anyway, it’s one of them. She’s headed for goal--she feints right and--Slytherin scores!” The Slytherin supporters cheered and sang louder. “That’s twenty-zero to Slytherin.”

Ron was not getting better as far as technique went; the fact remained that he seemed to be getting worse. Ten minutes later he’d let in two more goals, both by Warrington, who was a rubbish shot to begin with. (He only ever used his right arm to throw or catch, which was odd because he was left-handed.) Lian wouldn’t have been bothered by a bad goal keeper so much if her House wasn’t being such a pig about the whole thing. The song, the badges, the derogatory air of the whole thing; they’d stolen all the fun out of playing Quidditch. 

She only hoped that one of the seekers (she honestly was cheering for Harry at that point in the game) would catch the Snitch and end the miserable affair. 

“--and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges  Kowalski , ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she’s past Warrington, she’s heading for goal, come on now, Angelina--GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It’s forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and  Kowalski  has the Quaffle…”

Cradling the Quaffle with her legs once again, Lian was momentarily distracted by what had to be an actual lion’s roar.  _ Who brought the Gryffindor mascot to the game? That’s not fair, what happened to ours? I’d much rather hear a loud hiss than the newly formed Slytherin Singing club.  _

She threw the Quaffle to Warrington, who threw it to Montague, who threw it back to Lian; the three of them bobbing and weaving in and out of the Gryffindor team, successfully staying in possession, until Angelina Johnson intercepted Lian’s throw to Warrington. She passed it to Katie, who got hit by a bludger from Goyle and Lian managed to recapture the Quaffle, speeding off towards the Gryffindor goal posts. Something red and blurred dived in front of her, giving her a vague idea that the Seekers were finally onto something. She sped onward anyway and scored another goal for Slytherin. Only then did she gaze down on the scuffle between Malfoy and Harry.

Harry had been close to seizing the little golden ball, but was shoved away when Malfoy ‘accidentally’ rammed into him from the side. The Snitch vanished, along with any chance of the game coming to an end. 

Crabbe sent a bludger at Harry, which hit him squarely, knocking him off his broom. Madam Hooch blew her whistle for time out, while Angelina and one of the twins soared towards the ground to check on their Seeker. Meanwhile, Montague and Warrington circled Lian to confer with one another.

“Just focus on scoring; pass only if you’re surrounded and can’t get to the goal.” Montague called to them, sending a nasty glare in the direction of the Gryffindor Chasers. “If Malfoy can’t out maneuver Potter--”

“As usual,” Warrington grunted.

“--then at least we’ll have more points. We are not losing this match.” Montague growled, as if he had actual consequences planned for them if they lost. 

“I could concentrate better if I didn’t have the world’s most annoying song stuck in my head,” Lian hissed.

“She’s not wrong,” Warrington said, nodding at Montague. Their Captain rolled his eyes.

“It wasn’t my idea.”

Below them, Madam Hooch blew her whistle, indicating that they resume the game. Harry was back on his broom and sailing towards the opposite end of the field. 

“And it’s Alicia Spinnet headed for goal, she stares down Greengrass and--NO! Greengrass blocked the Quaffle, passing it to Kowalski. Kowalski in possession, she loops around Angelina, ducks Fred, no, George Weasley, she’s not messing around--headed straight for the Keeper, come on now Ron, knock her out of the sky!” Lee cried valiantly. Alas, Ron was unable to knock Lian anywhere, instead letting the Quaffle sail right through his fingers and through the hoop. “And that’s sixty-ten to Slytherin.”

“Nice one, Kowalski!” Warrington shouted to her as they zoomed past each other. All the while, the Slytherin supporters sang loud and proud.  _ Not a single one of them will have their voices tomorrow. _

“Looks like Malfoy’s seen the Snitch!” Lee yelled suddenly, after an extended period where only Slytherin was scoring. “Come on Harry! The Firebolt’s faster than a Nimbus 2001!”

Lian, who had just passed the Quaffle to Montague, looked around to watch Malfoy streaking up the pitch towards the Slytherin goal posts. Even she spotted something gold near the left hoop. Harry was just moments behind him, accelerating for all he was worth. They were neck-and-neck..!

“YES! HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH AND--oh no!” Lee stopped his excitement before it got out of hand. Lian and everyone else in the stadium understood why before he even said it. “Slytherin and Gryffindor have tied--one hundred and sixty points each!”

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, calling for a tie-breaker. “Each team select a Chaser!” Lian accelerated, beating Montague to the umpire’s side, facing off against the Gryffindor Captain herself, Angelina Johnson. “You two alone will attempt to score the extra ten points for your teams. The other Chasers cannot interfere, nor can the Beaters have any move upon you. When I release the Quaffle, whoever is in possession first will have one minute to score, else you surrender the win to the opposing team. Understood?”

Lian and Angelina nodded, their jaws set. Madam Hooch held out the Quaffle, and then, instead of throwing it skyward like Johnson had anticipated, she allowed it to fall like Lian had predicted. She was already turned into a dive, and caught the Quaffle before it had fallen two feet. Steering towards the goal posts, she accelerated her broom to its full speed. A kind of soundwave shook the stands as her Skyshatter rocketed towards the Gryffindor Keeper. It washed over her and gave her a kind of motion sickness, suddenly reminding her that she’d been unconscious for the last several days. Lian threw the Quaffle clumsily, trying not to vomit, and--

“Kowalski misses the hoop--she looks ill--and Johnson has saved it! Johnson’s shooting back up the pitch, straight for Greengrass, holding nothing back and-NO!” Greengrass had saved the Quaffle, ending the tiebreaker decisively. Slytherin won: a hundred and seventy points to a hundred and sixty. The Slytherin stands exploded. Lian felt victorious for a moment, but the sick feeling she’d given herself swept back in spades, and she lurched sideways. The sensation of falling was not new to her, and if she’d had more of her wits about her, she might’ve had the sense to panic, as it was, it took someone grabbing her arm and yanking her out of the natural fall to snap her out of it. Looking up, she saw Warrington descending as swiftly and safely as possible, still clutching her arm. Once she’d touched down, he dismounted his broom and went to help her sit up, but was interrupted by the rest of the team swooping in around them. Montague and Malfoy were hollering like idiots, Crabbe and Goyle were swinging their beaters bats dangerously, only Astoria saw that Lian was hurt and tried to help. The pain shooting from her shoulder and upper arm were most unpleasant, to put it lightly. Lian released a string of unladylike phrases to no one in particular.

“Hold still,” Astoria was saying. “You’ve dislocated your shoulder.”

“Really? I had no idea.” Lian grunted through the pain. The next face she saw was Warrington,  _ finally _ , and he lifted her up with a simple spell.  _ Swish and flick. _

“We’ll get you to Madam Pomfrey,” he said reassuringly. 

“No, wait,” Lian protested. “I got this.” Relaxing her arm, she explained to Warrington what she needed him to do. At first he resisted, but after a moment's persuasion, he complied. Once her shoulder popped back into place, both to the amazement and disgust of her two teammates, she stood on her own two feet. “Good thing that’s happened to me before, otherwise I’d have to go the hospital  wing twice in the same day.”

“What happened Kowalski? We almost lost the match thanks to you!” Malfoy called, looking irritated as always. 

“I was running purely on adrenaline until that last shot. Thank Merlin for Astoria, though!” Lian smiled at the Keeper, who looked heartened at being recognized. “What about you?” she snapped. “You let Potter beat you to the Snitch! If you knew how to how to be a Seeker, we would have won and there would’ve been no need for a tie-breaker!”

“Alright, enough!” It was not Montague who shouted over them, but Astoria. “Just, we all won, okay? Both of you can do better next time. Can we stop clawing at eachother's throats for just once?”

Lian folded her arms and glared at Malfoy, who only sneered down his nose at her. “Learn how to play Quidditch, Malfoy,” she snarled. 

“Learn how to be a Slytherin,” he retorted. The beast within her bared its teeth, ready to pounce on this foolish boy. Unfortunately, she felt Warrington restraining her, saw Astoria move in the way of Malfoy. The beast within grumbled in protest but settled down, for now.  _ I shouldn’t’ve let you out.  _ She thought bitterly.  _ Now you’ll never leave me alone.  _ She wondered for a moment whether she’d done the right thing--concerning her strategy. Her broom was designed to send a shockwave through the air every time its acceleration maxed out. If she’d been less reckless, she could have made the shot.  _ Maybe I’d have scored if he hadn’t invented that stupid song. _

Still, it was only the first match. Plenty more to go before the final. As Warrington effectively frog marched her off the pitch _ ,  _ she tapped his arm, indicating that he didn’t have to force her anywhere. 

“You played well,” he said out of nowhere. Lian gave him an amazed look. She didn’t think he was capable of giving compliments, let alone to her. “But maybe next time, let me or Montague take the tie-breaker.”

Lian raised an eyebrow. “Next time?”

“If there is one,” he amended.

“Thanks Warrington,” she said. “For helping with my shoulder as well.”

“Cas.” he muttered under his breath.

Lian looked at him in confusion. “Excuse me?”

Clearing his throat, he tried to recover. “Call me Cas; Warrington’s a bit of a mouthful.”

Lian’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’. “Ooh, okay then.” She gestured towards the castle vaguely. “I’m gonna go.”

He pointed towards the locker rooms. “Aren’t you going to change out of your gear, first?”

“What? Oh, right. I’ll do that then.” she said, sounding uncomfortable even to her own ears. She wasn’t normally like this, but she was determined to get away from it promptly. She changed quickly and almost dashed out of the locker rooms. At Ilvermorny she called everyone by whatever name they gave her the first day; if someone had told her to call them ‘Pookey’, she’d have stuck to that. But she’d noticed that in Hogwarts, the name game actually meant something. If someone addressed her as Ms. Kowalski, they were likely a teacher and there was a level of detachment required. If someone called her Kowalski, they weren’t on regular speaking terms, or they were and didn’t like each other much. Only those who felt on a friendly, or regular basis with her would bother calling her Lian. 

Taking all this into consideration, she had a feeling that Warrington specifically asking her to call him Cas had more meaning to it than she cared to think about. In her head, she could hear her old friend Vera saying,  _ What do we do when boys act weird? We put them in the doghouse. While they’re in the doghouse--you don’t throw them a bone, you don’t look at them; they stay there until they start acting normal again. _

Some days, she missed Ilvermorny. Days like today and days when she received mail from the Ministry.


	18. Danger in a Winter Wonderland

It snowed the night after the match, and Sunday morning greeted them all with a thick, white sheet across the school grounds. Lian helped herself to a quick breakfast of oatmeal and brown sugar--Theo had hooked her on it two weeks ago--before bundling up and charging boldly out into the drifts. She’d also spotted Warrington looking around the great hall and desperately desired to get out of dodge as quickly and casually as possible. 

She took a long walk around the Black Lake, then began to tread along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She desperately wanted to rush in and explore the spaces between the dark trees, but something was holding her back. That something might have had something to do with the smoke emitting from the chimney of the wooden hut.

Creeping closer, she dodged behind a tree when the front door suddenly sprang open. The gruff voice that reached her ears was a bit difficult to understand, but she got the gist of it after a time.

“Don’ worry ‘bout me, Hermione, really,” the man was saying. “I’ve got everythin’ planned for yer lessons this year; you just wait!”

“But Hagrid, you don’t understand!” replied Hermione Granger’s voice, sounding thick with agitation and worry. “Professor Umbridge will do everything in her power to see that you’re fired, or even worse--please you have to give us simpler creatures to deal with, or at least follow Professor Grubbly-Plank’s lesson plan!”

“G’on now, back up ter the castle. It’s a mite frosty, say ‘lo to Harry’n Ron fer me.” The man ushered her away. Lian peered around the tree to watch an absolute giant of a man wave a hand the size of a wok at the lioness’ reluctantly retreating form. Once the Gryffindor prefect was far enough away, instead of returning inside his hut, the enormous man turned and began to head into the forest. He was carrying a large sack over one shoulder, looking like Santa’s younger brother. 

Lian recalled how Harry and Ron had felt about seeing Professor Grubbly-Plank at that first Care of Magical Creatures lesson.  _ The one where I pinched every Slytherins wand; the good old days. _ She guessed that this ‘Hagrid’ was the true teacher.  _ So, where’s he been and what’s he been up to and where’s he going? _ She couldn’t answer two of those questions presently, but she definitely knew how to answer the third. 

Checking around to see if anyone was watching, she entered the forest, and then unleashed the beast. Quickly, she was able to catch a scent of red meat and musk, dashing across the frosted floor, no louder than a whisper. The woods rushed by her in a whirl, but she managed to stop and observe an entire herd of centaurs before they spotted her and began firing arrows at her. Unperturbed, she continued on until she located the big guy with the crazy hair and beard. He diverted off the path that wound its way through the trees, and continued on for as long as Lian could stand, until he stopped before a hill covered in mold. She considered scaling the hill and spooking him, but that plan was botched by what happened next.

“Grawpy! Up yer get now! I got sommit fer ya!” the huge man called, apparently to no one except the hill. And then it moved. Lian felt the hairs along her neck stand up straight, and she gripped the ground a bit harder than was necessary as it shook beneath her; the hill was sitting up, and then it roared. The sound was as if an elephant had gotten ahold of Lee’s megaphone, and then belched. 

The man, Hagrid, laid down the huge sack he’d been carrying. “I got yer sommit ter eat!” he bellowed, ducking as the giant reached out a hand grabbed at the tree Lian was hiding behind. Her animal instincts begged her to run, but her curiosity was much stronger. She dashed around the clearing, still hiding in the shadows. “Grawpy, don’t--ouch!” The giant had pulled the tree up by its roots, then dropped it, nearly crushing the man. Birds that had perched nearby decided it was the optimum moment to take flight--several of them only got out of their trees before they were seized by the giant, who then shoved them, feathers and all, into his mouth. 

Lian tried to see into this monster’s mind, see if it was a threat to the school, or at least to Hagrid, but the shine of her eyes caught the giant’s attention. Faster than she’d anticipated, he grasped her and brought her to his mouth. Hagrid was shouting furiously below, something about put that beast down, we don’t eat the magical ones, but the giant was deaf to his cries. Lian snarled, clawing at his hand futily, before pulling out her last resort. She met his eyes with her own, maintained contact unblinkingly and waited for him to stop moving. Seizing her chance, Lian dug into his mind, which was a jumble of sadness, longing and rage. The man, Hagrid, had taken him away from his home in the mountains. He wanted to go back, but he’d been horribly beaten there; and he wanted to stay with Hagrid, but didn’t like the forest. He was confused and afraid, which he wasn’t technically capable of feeling so it was just translated into fear and anger. Lian pulled back, only leaving the one continuous thought in his mind;  _ harmless. _

After what felt like an eternity, Grawp dropped her. She landed on her feet, lashed her tail in the direction of Hagrid, who was staring at her, dumbfounded. “Ain’t you--’ow come I never seen sommit like you before?”

Lian bared her teeth at him, emitting a low growl, before she charged back into the trees, headed north. 

 

Classes resumed as normal the next day, and she found that she had missed several assignments; but due to her condition, many of her teachers were lenient. Professor Snape gave her a detention for not turning in her homework while she was unconscious, but Lian suspected he’d have given her a detention if she’d somehow handed it in while in a coma.  _ He just wants another go at my memories.  _ She had the thought while brewing potions the next day, and to ensure that she would not be alone with the horrible man, she ‘accidentally’  _ Confundo’d _ Theo, who spilled dragon’s blood all over Snape’s robes. She silently promised she’d make it up to him later, though.

The next day dawned as usual, but only halfway through lunch did Lian remember that they had Care of Magical Creatures next, and, remembering her misadventure on Sunday, she lost her appetite. Slightly apprehensive, she fell in with the group from her year headed down to the edge of the forest. Sure enough, the big, wild man was awaiting them, along with the Gryffindors. Luckily, their High Inquisitor was nowhere to be seen. 

“We’re workin’ in here today!” Hagrid called happily, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. “Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark…”

“What prefers the dark?”  Malfoy said sharply to Crabbe and Goyle, a hint of panic in his voice. Lian took a mental note of this and filed it away for later.  “What did he say prefers the dark--did you hear?”

“Ready?” said Hagrid happily, looking around at the class.  His eyes lingered momentarily on Lian in confusion, but whatever it was about her that made him pause, he shook it off.  “Right, well, I’ve bin savin’ a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we’d go an’ see these creatures in their natural habitat.”  Lian hoped he didn’t have more than one giant lying around in there.  “Now, what we’re studyin’ today is pretty rare,” \-- _ I’ll say. _ \-- ”I reckon I’m probably the on’y person in Britain who’s managed ter train ‘em--”

Lian frowned as he spoke. The giant, Grawp, was the furthest thing from trained she’d ever seen; and she’d come from a school full of grouchy Pukwudgies. Hagrid’s pattern of speech didn’t indicate a bunch of juggling giants, no--he was referencing something else. Relief washed over her as she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. Theo glanced over his shoulder at her and raised an eyebrow questioningly. She nodded, raising her eyes to watch their teacher, who she noticed was holding a dead cow with one arm. It was the first time she’d gotten a proper look at his face, which was covered in purple bruises, cuts and oozing  a kind of pus.  _ Did he get those from Grawp? _

“Course they’re trained,” said Hagrid, scowling and hoisting the dead cow a little higher on his shoulder. Lian realized that she’d zoned out while Malfoy was complaining, so at least she hadn’t missed anything important. 

“So what happened to your face, then?” demanded Malfoy.

“Mind yer own business!” said Hagrid, angrily. “Now if yeh’ve finished askin’ stupid questions, follow me!”

He turned and strode straight into the forest.  Nobody seemed to want to follow. Lian watched as Harry looked to Ron and Hermione before stepping forward and led the rest of the class after their lumbering teacher. 

They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was as dark as twilight, and there was no snow on the ground at all. Hagrid deposited his cow with a grunt on the ground, stepped back, and turned to face his class again, most of whom were creeping toward him from tree to tree, peering around nervously as though expecting  to get attacked at any moment.

As for herself. Lian strode right up to where Hagrid was standing, folded her arms and stared around expectantly. Hagrid gave her an approving nod and called to the rest.  “Gather roun’, gather roun’. Now, they’ll be attracted by the smell o’ the meat but I’m goin’ ter give ‘em a call anyway, ‘cause they’ll like ter know it’s me…”

He turned, shook his shaggy head to get the hair out of his face, and gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. He gave the shrieking cry again, and a minute passed in which the class continued to peer nervously over their shoulders and around the trees for a glimpse of whatever it was that was coming.

Lian noticed that Harry had nudged Ron and point to a spot between two gnarled yew trees. She narrowed her eyes as she surveyed the space, and then back at Harry, whose eyes were focused on the spot. Ron was still staring around apprehensively.  _ Harry can see something...that Ron can’t... _ She looked around at the group and saw that Neville was staring at the same spot; as was Theo from where he stood between Goyle and Lian. Craning her neck towards him, she whispered, her eyes raking the gnarled trees. “What do you see?”

Theo swallowed, reluctant to answer. “Horses,” he finally croaked. “Skeletal horses...they pull the school carriages.”

“How long have you been able to see them?” she asked, genuinely curious and not at all thinking about the sensitivity of it.

He shrugged slightly. “Every year.”

“Oh, an’ here comes another one!” said Hagrid proudly.  Lian watched with wide eyes as a chunk of the cow ripped itself apart from the carcass, and vanished into thin air.  “Now...put yer hands up, who can see ‘em?”

Harry, Neville and Theo raised their hands slowly, looking around at the others, who stared back at them. Theo furrowed his eyebrows at Lian, but she could only shrug and shake her head. 

“Excuse me,” said Malfoy in a sneering voice, “but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?”

For answer, Hagrid pointed at the cow carcass on the ground. The whole class stared at it for a few seconds, then several people gasped and Parvati Patil squealed. Lian understood her reason for it; random pieces of flesh stripping themselves away from the bones and disappearing from sight was a very strange thing to behold. 

“What’s doing it?” Parvati demanded in a terrified voice, retreating behind the nearest tree. “What’s eating it?”

“Thestrals,” answered Lian, wishing she had her Magizoology book with her. “Hogwarts has the largest herd in existence.” She looked to Hagrid to confirm this fact, and he nodded while  Hermione gave a soft “oh!” of comprehension. 

Parvati shivered and pressed herself closer to the tree, saying, “I think I felt something, I think it’s near me!”

“Don’ worry, it won’ hurt yeh,” said Hagrid patiently. “Right, now, who can tell me why some o’ you can see them an’ some can’t?”

Both Lian and Hermione raised their hands. Hermione shot her a competitive look, which Lian returned with a smirk. They’d followed this pattern every single lesson since Lian had arrived. Hagrid, who seemed to have a more favorable relationship with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, hesitated as he looked at Lian curiously.

“Who’re you?” he asked, unable to call on her without that information.

“Lian Kowalski, sir,” she answered, lowering her hand. She took the opportunity while she still had it. “And the only people who can see thestrals are people who have seen death, and accepted it.” She saw Hermione frown at her but ignored it.

“That’s exactly right,” said Hagrid solemnly,  “ten points ter Slytherin.  Now, thestrals--”

“ _ Hem, hem.” _

_ Dang it.  _ Professor Umbridge had arrived. She was standing a few feet away from Harry, wearing a green hat and cloak, her clipboard at the ready. Hagrid, who had  probably never heard Umbridge’s fake cough before, was gazing in some concern at the place where the thestrals had to be,  evidently under the impression that it had made the sound.

“ _ Hem, hem.” _

“Oh, hello!” Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.

“You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?” said Umbridge,  speaking in a loud, slow voice  as though she was addressing somebody both foreign and very slow. “Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?”

“Oh yeah,” said Hagrid brightly. “Glad yeh found the place all righ’! Well, as you can see--or, I dunno--can you? We’re doing thestrals today--”

“I’m sorry?” said Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning. “What did you say?”

The lesson went downhill from there. Umbridge made rude comments from her clipboard, degrading Hagrid’s intelligence level and such, while Hagrid grew more agitated as he tried to press on with whatever he was trying to teach them. Then she started talking to the students, Malfoy and Goyle mostly, who were laughing uproariously. 

Turning to Lian, Umbridge said in a carrying voice, cutting through Hagrid’s talk about the herd. “How does Care of Magical Creatures taught here  differ from how it is taught at Ilvermorny?”

At the sound of the name, everyone turned their heads, including Hagrid, to listen to Lian’s reply. Taking a moment to sigh deeply, she spoke in the same carrying voice, as if Umbridge was as hard of hearing as she made Hagrid out to be. “At Ilvermorny, they don’t have Care of Magical Creatures classes, because for quite a long time, the handling and preserving of magical creatures was banned from America. I myself find that these lessons are beneficial to the betterment of all wizardkind.”

Umbridge leered at her. “And why is that?”

“Witches and wizards are only afraid of magical creatures because for so long no one bothered to understand them, or their purposes. But they’re not monsters with a blood lust, they’re unique and even  _ fantastic _ creatures that have as much a right to live as you or I.”  _ Well, maybe just me. You might not deserve to live at all.  _ She spoke boldly, feeling a glow within her chest as she did so. 

Umbridge clearly hadn’t anticipated this kind of response from a Slytherin student. She tried to turn away, to interrogate another, but Lian wasn’t finished yet. “Do you know that this specific class is part of the reason I transferred? Do you know that I feel like my time has been wasted with the lessons Professor Grubbly-Plank has been setting for us? I was drawing Bowtruckles when I was eight, that’s hardly a challenge. In fact,” she pointed at Hagrid. “I’m relieved to finally see a competent teacher, one fully equipped to teach the hard lessons about less understood beasts. That’s what I’m doing here; I want hard lessons because I’m not messing around with my education.”

She knew it was time to shut up when Theo gripped the sleeve of her robes. She stared defiantly at Umbridge, daring her to scribble one more note on her clipboard.

“Well Hagrid,” Umbridge turned to look up at him again, speaking once more in that loud, slow voice, “I think I’ve got enough to be getting along with… You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days’ time.” She bustled from their midst,  leaving them all in a state of mixed emotions. The lioness was actually shaking with fury, and Theo raised his hand from Lian’s sleeve to her shoulder. 

“You know that none of that’s gonna make a difference in Umbridge’s report?” he murmured in her ear. “She made up her mind about Hagrid already, probably before he came back.” 

As Hagrid fell into a more stable rhythm of the lesson, Lian nodded, calming herself down as the bits of flesh tore themselves off the cow and vanished, presumably into the bellies of the thestrals. Judging by the number of bites disappearing at a time, she guessed there were four to five of them now. “I know. But I had to say it. For me, and my uncle.”

“Who is your uncle?”

“Newt Scamander.”

Theo blinked and could only say, “Oh.”

 

An hour later they were all trudging their way up to the castle. Ahead of them, the lioness was ranting up a storm about Umbridge to the other two. Lian stuck to the back of the group with Theo and Pansy, glancing back at Hagrid’s hut all the while.  _ Does anyone else know that there’s a grubby looking giant in the Forbidden Forest?  _

“Again?” Pansy whined. Lian looked up and saw that she’d allowed a very official owl to land on her arm. It was carrying a familiar envelope with an ‘M’ imprinted in the wax seal. Pansy frowned at Lian, her eyes wide. “Who keeps writing to you?”

“No one important,” she replied, snatching the letter from the owl before Pansy could think about beating her to it. 

“I beg to differ,” said Theo, watching the owl fly away towards the owlery. Both girls gave him a surprised look, as he’d never expressed an interest in Lian’s mail before. “That’s the twelfth one in three months. Either you’re ignoring someone, or very forgetful.”

“Or the person writing me is paranoid; none of which-” Lian added quickly. “Is either of your concerns.”

“Well at least tell us what department they’re in.” Pansy insisted. Theo murmured in agreement, watching Lian carefully. She hid a smile, knowing that Theo had been trying to figure out what her tells were for quite a while. She couldn’t be certain, but she assumed he’d figured out at least two. 

“You know, I don’t think I will.” she said dismissively, shoving the letter away in her bag.  _ Can’t wait for the friendly berate of the week. _

But apparently, it could wait for her. She went to read it after Defense Against the Dark Arts class had finished, but couldn’t find it anywhere. After searching her book bag, twice, and all the pockets of her robes, she had to face the only conclusion. Turning on the spot, she spied Theo disappearing around the corner.  _ Oh no you don’t! _

She took off down the hall after him, dodging and weaving her way through students. When she rounded the corner, her only ally was nowhere in sight.  _ Okay, maybe you did. I wish you didn’t. This is bad. This is very, very bad. _ She ran the length of the corridor, looking left and right to try and find or guess where he might’ve gone. All the while she tried to understand why he would take her letter, other than being seized by a sudden, brazen rush of curiosity. 

She bumped into the banister of one of the moving staircases, having run without direction. Wishing in that moment that she could hypnotize in human form, she could only pray that she could recapture that letter before Theo, or anyone else, could open it.

 


	19. Detention and Friends

In the times where Theo had withdrawn himself from anyones company, he’d always been near but in the background; everyone simultaneously agreed to just leave him be. In this instance, he was nowhere, and it was driving her insane. Of course, in the meantime, she checked with Pansy, Daphne and Millie--and by checked she just bypassed the vocal accusation by way of memories--but emerged without any luck. 

Lian knew she needed to confront Theo, she just didn't realize the best and worst opportunity would present itself that very evening, during their detention with Snape. At eight o’clock sharp she entered the dungeon as requested, to find Theo already receiving instructions from Snape. 

“Ah, Ms. Kowalski,” Snape said, looking up as she shut the heavy door behind her. “I was just explaining to Mr. Nott the nature of your punishment; Madam Pomfrey’s stock of Skele-gro is in need of replenishing. As I have many other tasks that require my attention, I leave this task to the pair of you. When you complete it, take it to the hospital wing at once.” He rose from his desk and waved his wand as he walked. “Instructions are on the board. Put everything back as it was.” And then he disappeared into his office, leaving Lian to stare down her opponent. There was a pause, and then, as Theo began to move towards the ingredients cupboard, she began. 

“A funny thing happened after class today,” she began quietly, reaching across him for the scarab beetles. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhmm. Pansy stole my letter.” She stated in a matter-of-fact fashion. Theo kept a straight face, even glancing at her in concern.

“Are you sure?”

Lian nodded solemnly. “Oh yes. I have a certain talent when hunting for the truth. She hasn't opened it yet but I won't give her the chance; want to help me after we finish up here?” 

Theo began to clean the cabbage while she crushed the beetles before tossing them in the cauldron. “What do you plan to do to her?” 

“She stole something private from me; I'm simply going to repay the favor.”

“Well I wouldn't do that if I were you.” He said, depositing another set of ingredients before taking out his wand to light the flames beneath the pot. 

“I'm not afraid of Pansy.” 

“I'm not saying you should, I just know that fighting with her won't give you the desired result.” He said evasively. 

“And why not?” Lian promoted, stirring the potion the appropriate amount. 

Theo sighed heavily, then, cautiously he  withdrew her letter from his robes. Lian stared at it, horrorstruck. It was no longer safely sealed in an official envelope--it was just the folded note. “Because it’s right here.”

There was something about Slytherins; they keep their lives close to the vest. You stay out of their business and they’ll usually stay out of yours. As curious as she was, she never pried into the lives of her Housemates. Daphne and Astoria could have a summer home in Compton for all she knew. Lian might have anticipated a strike from Malfoy and Zabini but not Theo. She looked into his blue eyes, finding a hardness in there she hadn’t noticed before. 

“You...you read it.” she said in a small voice, succeeding in catching him off-guard. “Why?”

“I wasn’t going to, at first,” he said slowly. “I just saw it as a means to an end but then, I started thinking--”

“--you should never do that,” Lian put in grimly.

“--about how you never read them in front of the rest of us. You wouldn’t even say what kind of person was writing to you--”

“I did so...several weeks ago I think.”

“--and I just had to know. It’s not that long of a letter so the rest kind of caught my attention and yes, I read it.” he finished, despite her interruptions.

“I think we established that its been read,” she stated, keeping her voice level.  _ Calm like a pool; reflective not offensive. _ “By you and not me. I repeat my earlier question of why--why did you feel like you had to invade my privacy?”

Though she did not shout, Lian could see that Theo was hoping she would. This steady, seemingly reasonable side was unsettling him. “Because I don’t know you. And the little things I have learned of you seem trivial when compared to the things I know about people I don’t particularly care for--Merlin’s beard, Kowalski, I know more about Hermione Granger than I do you.”

“So?”

“You’re unknown.” he said shortly, unable to keep with the prince olite manner of speech. “I can’t figure you out by observation, and I can’t read your mind. Maybe you can take a leap of faith or whatever with the people you meet but I can’t. At first you were cool but lately you’re unpredictable.”

“Why does that matter?” she asked with a shrug, moving to the cupboard to select a few mandrake leaves. “Everyone has their quirks.”

“You don’t talk about yourself.” he shot at her back.

“Neither do you.” she replied. “Nor anyone else in our House, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Slytherin is jammed with old families that go back centuries. We all automatically know each other based on the family's reputation. In your case, there doesn’t seem to be one.” he sighed, as though he wished his family name wasn’t well known.

“A reputation or an old family?”

“Yes.” he replied vaguely. “Just--who are you? What are you doing here? Because according to this--” he waved the letter around. “--you’re someone I should stay away from.” 

Lian finally turned to look at him, keeping her face neutral.  _ Just what exactly does that say? _ But there was a more pressing issue at hand, because the longer Theo talked, the better she understood what was really eating at him. “Look, this isn’t really about me. This is about you, and your trust issues. How about some give and take? Tell me about why you need to know, and I can supply you with the answers you desire.”

“How will I know if you’re being honest?” It was a fair question in Lian’s opinion. He couldn’t be certain of truth the way she could.

“Well. You can choose to trust me. Or--” she walked the length of the classroom, around Snapes desk and started to rifle through the drawers. She found several vials and bottles before locating a specific one. Holding the clear liquid up to the light, she squinted at it for a moment before returning back to Theo with it. “--I could just drink this and trust you.”

“Veritaserum?” he blanched.

Lian nodded. “Mhmm. But first; give me something to go on.”

“You’d be willing to take a truth serum for me?” he said dumbly, as if he expected her to say ‘just kidding!’ at any moment.

“Only if you tell me why it’s necessary.” she said earnestly. He stared at her in dumbfounded silence, all the while, their half-stirred skele-gro simmered in the background. Shrugging, Lian uncorked the vial and lifted the serum to her lips. “Okay then, bottoms u--hey!”

Theo plucked it from her grasp and swallowed a few drops before she could stop him. “Alright. Give and take. Go ahead.” he said briskly, handing the vial back to her. 

“Why would you do that?” Lian moaned thoughtlessly.

“Because if you trust me enough to drink a potion that would make you tell the truth no matter what,” he said in a blank tone, which only revealed that the potion was working magnificently. “It’s only fitting that I be willing to do the same in return.”

“Okay.  So...Why is it so important to you, that I’m a trustworthy person?” she asked after a minute of consideration.

“Because I want to trust you, completely. I can’t do that with all the questions overflowing in my brain every single time something happens with you.” He said earnestly. 

Lian nodded. “You keep overanalyzing. I’ve been there; it sucks.” She swallowed one drop of the veritaserum. 

“Why did you leave Ilvermorny?” she heard Theo ask. Her brain felt a little fuzzy, but her mouth began spouting words without prior thought.  _ Well that’s new. _

“I wanted to come to Hogwarts since I was six years old; it wasn’t my fault that my name was already on the Ilvermorny waitlist. I’ve been trying to transfer since I turned eleven, but I lacked the experience and the connections to push through both school boards and the government official stuff.” she heard herself saying. “Finally at the end of my fifth year, when I completed my OWL examinations, they approved my transfer on a few conditions; one being that I repeat my fifth year at Hogwarts.”

“Repeat?” he said, curling his lip. “What makes Hogwarts so special?” 

“Like I said earlier, I want hard classes. I thought studying at a more ancient school would only broaden and better my understanding of magic and the wizarding world. My mother studied at two different wizarding schools before she met my father, and she’s always said that the experience left her wiser and more prepared to take on the world.” She explained almost in a bored tone. “Why did you steal my letter?”

“I didn’t actually think it through. I grew up having to gather my own information through whatever means necessary. I knew you wouldn’t volunteer anything about whoever is writing you, and the frequency that the Ministry writes you was more than enough reason be curious. I had to know.”

“Did you learn anything?”

“That you’re spying on someone. For someone. And you’re on a side.” he sighed. “Is that true?”

“No...well, yes. But also no...I mean--” Lian paused to take another drop of the serum. “Kind of...but not really.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “The second condition of my transfer to Hogwarts was that I keep an eye on selected individuals and keep a written log of their activities.” She shook her head. “I didn't know how serious it was when I got accepted. But now she won't stop asking for intel and if I don't send her something she’ll expel me.” 

“She?” Theo repeated. “Who is she?”

“Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.” Lian answered through grit teeth. 

Theo widened his eyes at her, apparently at a loss for words. After a minute, in which Lian returned to work on the Skele-Gro, he stammered, “That's...blackmail.”

“Yes.”

“She can't do that, can she?”

“She thinks she can do whatever she wants. And government is crooked enough to let her get away with it.” Lian sniffed. 

“...Who are you spying on?” Theo rushed to fix the question when he caught sight of her expression. “Sorry, who are you supposed to spy on?”

“Dumbledore. And anyone loyal to him.” 

“How are you ‘kind of’ spying?” 

Lian shuffled her feet, added a human femur bone to the potion, and then said, “I might be giving her false information.” 

“Like how Harry Potter and a handful of his sycophants are not meeting weekly to practice defensive magic? Wait a minute--” he frowned at her, “--you made me sign that paper--if Umbridge discovers them, then I’ll be under question too!”

“Not necessarily,” Lian said placatingly. “If she does catch them, I can protect you.”

“Does she know they exist?”

“She knows they met in the Hogs Head to discuss the possibility.”

“And you told her?”

“No.”

“How did she know?”

“Willy Widdershins was in the bar that day. He ran back to school and told her everything.”  _ Uh oh. _

_ “ _ If you already knew you had to report on anyone loyal to Dumbledore,” he said, taking a safer route than she'd expected.  _ Phew.  _ “Why join the group at all?”

“It looked like fun.” She said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “And I thought, I hoped, that I could get away with being apart of it without  _ her  _ digging her stubby little claws into it.”

“Wait, if you’re working for her--why do you openly oppose her? Like today in class? If I’d spoken to her like that I’d have detention.”

Lian clenched her fists at her side. “Because of the trap she’s put me in, I feel like its aggressively necessary to fight back at her whenever I can--which is usually when there’s a lot of people around. She probably only allows it because she thinks I’m doing it to gain favor in the eyes of those loyal to the Headmaster.” She waited for him to question her further, to extract something more, but he seemed to reach his limit. Deciding it was the best time to ask, she said, “Can I have my letter back?”

Mutely, Theo handed it to her. Turning away from him, she unfolded the paper and read:

_ Dear Ms. Kowalski _

_ Your recent report while satisfactory is lacking in the necessary detail. I plead that you reinforce your efforts to observe the goings on about you more thoroughly. I suggest you treat our relationship with more priority than your personal ideals. Next time I shan’t be so lenient.  _

_ Always remember which side you are on. _

_ Your Friend _

 

“Which side are you on?” he asked numbly. 

Grimacing, she turned back to face him. “Mine.” She sniffed. “I have to do whatever I think is right, and I'm prepared to deal with the consequences. Whether or not you think better or worse of me now isn’t the point; but you have to swear not to tell anyone.”

Theo scooped out the newly finished Skele-Gro into a glass container, stoppering it with a cork. “I'll take this to Madam Pomfrey.” He volunteered as if she had not spoken. 

“Nott,” she tried to stop him but he was too quick in exiting the room, leaving her to put everything they had used back where they had found it. She glanced at the vial of veritaserum in her hand, wondering if it had been a very good idea at all. Now he had all the information necessary to destroy her, in the eyes of Umbridge or more if he desired. 

_ Theo wouldn't do that _ , she tried to assure herself. She couldn't be certain much further than a gut feeling, but it was all she had. 

  
  


November rolled into December before Lian could blink an eyelid. She received another bout of letters from her old group, thankfully without a Belter bursting in halfway through lunch. While the comforting words of her friends brought a tiny flicker of warmth to her chest; something about walking the castle completely alone made every decision she’d made up till then seem like a mistake. 

Theo had taken to avoiding her completely since the Veritaserum incident, and anyone else's company felt lacking--even Pansy and Daphne. This, however was due to the rock slide of homework the fifth years had received with the final month of the year. Malfoy and Pansy were more and more absent in the common room due to their prefect duties, whatever the hell that meant. Each and everyone of her classmates were swamped with work, but somehow, even with the unfamiliar classes, Lian found a way to have free time.  _ Probably because for more than half of these classes I should be handling 6th year material. Just think of it as in-depth preparation for next year.  _

The promise of the Christmas holidays starting soon did very little to lift her spirits; as she’d received a letter from her mother stating that they were going to visit her parents in Australia, and Lian be unable to go with them. So all she had to look forward to was a nearly empty castle for the holidays.  _ Merry Christmas. _

At least there would be one last D.A. meeting before the holidays. Upon arriving in the Room of Requirement she was met with a bit of a shock. The whole place had been colorfully decorated, likely by an overeager toddler. Several sprigs of mistletoe lined the ceiling, causing Lian to be momentarily seized with a sensation of disgust. 

Everyone else seemed to be present, at which point Harry called them all to order.  “Okay, I thought this evening we should just go over the things we’ve done so far, because it’s the last meeting before the holidays and there’s no point starting anything new right before a three-week break--”

“We’re not doing anything new?” said Zacharias Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have come…”

“We’re all really sorry Harry didn’t tell you then,” said Fred loudly. 

Lian sniggered, along with many others. Harry had them divide into pairs, starting with the Impediment Jinx, and then they got out the cushions and went over Stunning. Lian practiced with Lee Jordan, who had decided to become quite chummy with her over the past few D.A. meetings, which she appreciated. It certainly made practicing mundane spellwork a bit more inviting.

At the end of an hour, Harry called a halt. “You’re getting really good,” he said, beaming around at them. “When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff--maybe even Patronuses.”

Lian perked up at that. She’d almost forgotten that Harry could cast a patronus. She’d been so busy with everything else, what with Quidditch, homework, Snape and Umbridge breathing down her neck, and keeping a written log of all that was happening around her; she’d been distracted.

_ Maybe the holiday break will do me a favor.  _ She helped Harry and the others re-stack the cushions, and left with Ron and Hermione. Harry hung back, presumably to talk to the Chang girl from Ravenclaw. As they made their way to the magical staircase, Lian inquired politely about their plans for the holidays.

“I’m going skiing with my parents,” said Hermione, ignoring Ron who guffawed. “Skiing is when--”

“Oh I’ve been skiing before,” Lian assured her, also ignoring Ron. They both looked genuinely taken aback at this confession. “My uncle Anatoly used to take my brother and I all the time.”

“Really?” said Hermione, sounding slightly pleased. “Anatoly’s an interesting name; is it--”

“Russian, yes.” Lian answered. They’d reached the stairs and she leaned against the banister. “My mother’s parents used a big ‘ol baby book and picked the most interesting names they found.”

“A baby book? But that’s a muggle thing, isn’t it?” Ron asked.  
"Just because a witch and wizard are pureblooded, doesn't mean they can't read No-Maj books and be well versed in the world." said Lian defensively. "There are more No-Majs than Wizardkind, and it's stupid to pretend they don't exist."  
"You're right; I didn't mean they couldn't; I was just surprised." said Ron quickly, shuffling his feet. 

Hermione checked her watch. “We’d better head back to our respective common rooms, it’s getting late.”

“Yeah. Wait--Ron, what are your holiday plans?”

“I’m going home.” he answered simply. “You?”

Lian shrugged. “I’m probably gonna stay here.”

“Why not go home?” Hermione asked, hovering on the first step towards the next floor. “I’m sure you miss them terribly.”

“I do, but they’re not spending the holidays in New York, so it’d be just the same if I stayed here.”

“Sorry to hear that,” sympathized Hermione. “But we’ll see you in meetings after the New Year. Good night.” she waved, as did Ron, and they headed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. 

Lian watched them go before sauntering back down to the Slytherin common room. She was almost at that blank stretch of wall when it happened. Her mind suddenly went numb, and then it pulsed within her skull. She felt nothing, and everything that wasn’t hers all at once. Situationally, as she was within the reaches of the common room, she felt a lot of what they were feeling, thinking, remembering. She clutched at her temples, begging for it to stop. She might have screamed, she couldn’t tell. Her body began to seize, her legs became unable to keep her upright. She remembered falling. And nothing more. 


	20. Want an Autograph?

Someone was holding her hand, tightly, as though they could squeeze her fingers off and that was how she’d wake up. Her sense of touch was the first to return online, she was lying down--a given as she’d collapsed to begin with. She wasn’t in her uniform though, she was in what felt like cotton pajamas. The surface she was lying on was soft, and the surface covering two-thirds of her body was crisp. She was in a bed--but it wasn’t her bed. 

Next came her hearing and sense of smell. Someone was playing the radio, but softly, and the someone was talking to her in a tender voice. It sounded male. And very familiar. The air smelled clean, yet there was a hint of sourness, as though it’s clean status could change at anytime. The person speaking to her was incoherent until her brain started to receive actual words through her ears.

“Jules. It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” She knew that voice, and she knew those words. “It’s Christmas today. I would’ve been surfing if that guy hadn’t gotten ahold of us.” His name. His name was right on the tip of her tongue. “Which is just as well. I suck at surfing--you remember a few years ago at Long Island? I mean, I still blame Jason but--”

Lian opened her eyes. She was staring up at a high ceiling in a small, private room. She tried to sit up but her body wasn’t listening, and she only managed to turn her head. The boy sitting at her bedside smiled. “Heya sis,” said Jake Kowalski. 

“I did it again.” she whispered, returning the smile. 

“Heck yeah you did,” he gave a breathy laugh. “They were so confused at Pigpimples they panicked and sent you here.”

Flicking her eyes around the room, Lian asked, “And where is ‘here’?”

“St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.” Jake recited, leaning back in his chair. “Seriously though, what happened to you? You didn’t say anything about blacking out in your letters.”

Lian bit her lip. “No, I didn’t. I was going to, but--”

“So you have had a blackout? Dagnabit Lian, we talked about this before you left!” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You’re supposed to keep track of them!”

“I’ve only had...two….technically.”

“Jules!”

“Where’s mom and dad? Why is it just you?” Lian asked, quickly changing the subject. Jake sent her a death glare to indicate he knew what she was doing but was willing to let it go momentarily.

“They were here a few days ago, but dad was all worried and angry and wanted to bring you home and make you go back to Ilvermorny, but mom knew you’d rather not so she took him and Phi-Phi to Sydney and left me here to look after you.” he sighed. “I haven’t looked around much, but there’s a weird guy in a long, purple robe that keeps popping in here, at least before his nurse drags him away.” Jake reached into his duffle bag that Lian hadn’t noticed on the floor before then, and pulled out a handful of photographs of some wizard with a vacant expression. The pictures were smiling and looking around at them curiously, and in the corner, was a signature written by the hand of a small child. “Want an autograph?”

Lian squinted at the joined-up writing, unable to distinguish a G from a D. “What does that even say?”

“No idea.” Jake shrugged. “ The guy didn’t either, just shoved these at me and told me to share them with my friends.” 

“Weird,” Lian said with a grunt. “Did you say today was Christmas?”

“Yes I did.”

Lian blanched. “I’ve been here a week?”

“Well I don’t know about here, here; but you’ve been unresponsive for ten days.”

She sat up, suddenly finding the strength to do so. “Most people say unconscious. Why would you say unresponsive?”

“Because that’s the word the nurse used when she showed us where they put you. They didn’t know what had happened to you and you weren’t responding to any of the treatments that the school nurse dared to try. Your condition scared her so bad they sent you here. Without knowing what caused you to be like this; they set you up in this private room. Something like that--I think we’re on their Spell Damage floor.” Jake scratched his head, trying to remember what he’d seen and heard over the past few days. “This place is so British, though. They’ve got a tea room. Most hospitals give you ice chips but no--there’s a tea room. With scones. I need pizza.”

Lian closed her eyes and snorted. She’d forgotten how much fun her brother could be. For the last three and a half months she’d been encompassed by well-mannered British children, for the most part. Jake’s Manhattan accent was like fresh water to her dehydrated ears. “How’d I get hooked up with a private room? Did the school pay for that?”

“No--some old rich dude who gives regular donations to the hospital.” Jake replied, shrugging ignorantly. “Want some ice chips? Sorry, tea? They’ve got earl grey, chamomile, I stopped paying attention beyond that…”

“Do they have ginger root?” she asked half-heartedly.

“They might.”

“Check for me?” Jake stuck his tongue out at her. “Thank you. Oh-! And you might want to tell a nurse or healer or someone that I’m conscious--sorry, responsive!”

“You got it.” he shot hand guns at her, winked, and exited the room, leaving her alone. She looked around at the blank walls, starting to recognize that she was starving.  _ If I was still at Hogwarts, I’d be waking up to a Christmas feast.  _ She thought, pursing her lips together. 

Jake hadn’t been gone two minutes when the door suddenly opened, and the wizard from the signed photos poked his head into the room. “--just want to say hello to the fellow in here before we get to it--oh!” he spotted Lian staring at him. “Hullo there! Are you a fan? Come along with us, I’ll get you a signed photograph!”

“No thanks, I’ve recently acquired more photos than I know what to do--Ron?” she’d spotted the red hair and freckled face over the wizard’s shoulder. They raised their eyebrows in united bewilderment.

“Kowalski? What the bloody hell are you doing in there?” Ron sounded a little scared. “You alright?”

“Kowalski? As in the transfer student?” another voice, probably Ginny, piped up, though Lian couldn’t see anyone else beyond the wizard with the blond hair and the toothy grin. 

“Oh you’ve met one another?” he asked in delight. “Of course you have, obviously you’re all members of my fan club...why are you my fans?” he looked a bit lost and forlorn, but a moment later he was all grins again. “Come along now! Free autographs this way!”

Completely forgetting about the tea, Lian climbed out of the bed, and moved across the room to join the group, her bare feet not making a sound against the cold floor. Once out in the hall, which was long and had several doors up and down it, leading into different wards. Lian saw that not only was the handsome wizard being visited by the young Weasleys, but also Hermione and Harry, who looked just as dumbfounded to see her as she was to see them.

“What happened?” Hermione asked hesitantly, her eyes flicking between Lian and the bed she’d just vacated. 

“Who hexed you?” Harry spoke up, surveying her as though expecting to see that she was missing a limb.

“No one--I just--” Lian began to answer, but then remembered she didn’t really want to tell them about her ability, and the problems that came with it. 

Fortunately, the Healer that led the group saved her. “Ms. Kowalski, is it? If you’re feeling up to it, it may be beneficial to take a walk. You’ve been asleep for almost eleven days now.” Lian ignored the scandalized look Hermione gave her. “We’re just taking Gilderoy here back to his ward, now. Can join us if you like, I know he’d love the visit.”

Lian gave the wizard, Gilderoy, an appraising look before replying. “Alright.”

The Healer smiled widely and led them to the Janus Thickey ward, opened the door with a simple spell, and, grasping the wizard’s arm firmly, walked inside and settled him into an armchair beside his bed.

“This is our long-term resident ward,” she informed them in a low voice. “For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement… Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we’ve seen a real improvement in Mr. Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isn’t speaking any language we recognize yet… Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I’ll leave you all to chat…”

Looking around, Lian could see the signs of the ward being a permanent home to its inhabitants.  Gilderoy’s headboard, for instance, was papered with pictures of himself, all beaming toothily and waving at the new arrivals.  Like the pictures that Jake had been given, they were all autographed with his childish cursive. The moment Gilderoy had settled in his armchair, he took a very used and abused peacock quill and began signing a fresh pile of photos. He even had Ginny (or at least asked in an off-handed manner) to put the finished ones in envelopes.

Lian turned her back on the wizard and looked across at the man in the opposite bed--who was presently mumbling to himself. If she hadn’t just woken from a state of mental collapse, she would have tried to look into his mind. She’d only looked into an insane person once before, it might be educational to try again.

A few beds down there was a woman whose entire head was covered in fur.  _ Self-Transfiguration gone awry? _ And at the very end of the ward,  flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds, giving the occupants and their visitors some privacy.

While Gilderoy was busy signing, the others decided it was the perfect chance to talk to Lian. “Are you going to tell us what’s going on or not?” asked Ginny from where she was messily putting away photographs. 

“I was in the hospital wing before break started,” Lian replied evasively. “Did the rumor chain around the school break down or something?”

“Well, we left that same night you last saw us,” said Ron. “Our dad got attacked and he’s down on the second floor recovering.”

“I’m glad to hear that he’s recovering. It’s more than I can say for that guy--what connection do you have with him anyway?” Lian jerked her head at the wizard in the chair.

“He used to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts in our second year,” said Hermione at once. “He sort of got on the wrong end of a powerful memory charm though, so he’s not quite himself.”

“Uh huh…” said Lian intelligently. “Between this guy and Umbridge it’s a miracle you didn’t start the D.A. sooner.”

“Well, its never been as important that we learn properly before. And Umbridge isn’t teaching,”  _ Oh no I woke the beast. _ The lioness seemed to be revving up for something. “She’s preventing us from progressing at all. At least when Lockhart taught--”

“Oh yeah,” chipped in Ron, sending Hermione a smug look. “Exactly what did Lockhart teach?”

Hermione went very pink and shut her mouth, glaring at Ron.

In the silence that followed, the Healer busied herself by passing out Christmas presents, a small pile for the fury woman, a hippogriff calendar and a plant for the mumbling man, and--” \--oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?”

All of them looked around, and watched the two visitors making their way up the ward. The first was a proud-looking witch who had likely babysat Merlin himself; she was wearing a pointed hat with a stuffed vulture for decoration. Lian hoped it was stuffed anyway, for its soulless black eyes were staring right at her. Walking along in her wake was none other than Neville Longbottom.

Nonplused, and standing barefoot in pajamas that weren’t hers, Lian waved before she could think about it. “Hi Neville!”

Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him. 

“It’s us, Neville!” said Ron brightly, getting to his feet. “Have you seen? Lockhart’s here! Who’ve you been visiting?”

“Friends of yours, Neville, dear?” said Neville’s grandmother graciously, bearing down on them all. Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them.

Lian didn’t understand what was causing him to feel so distressed, and in what felt like a moment, she saw everything. For the swiftest of moments her eyes flicked back towards the curtains before landing on Neville again.  _ She saw a man and a woman; both had thin, worn faces and overly large eyes or so it seemed. Their hair, which should’ve been rich and full at their age, had turned white and wispy. They did not speak, or perhaps they’d forgotten how; and every Christmas, every holiday he could get the chance, Neville had come to this very ward to visit with his parents. _

Her brain throbbed at being used so soon after her shut down, and she clutched her temples and as politely and discreetly as possible, turned away from the group. She moved to the muttering man, Bode, and took a seat at his bedside. She tried to soothe herself, promising and swearing every kind of oath to Merlin and back that she would not abuse her ability anymore when it happened again.

_ She saw a dark, windowless hallway. A single door at the end; she walked towards it, opened it, and stepped inside. There was a circular room with several doors lining the walls. She moved with ease through the connecting rooms, seeing glimpses of each room's purpose or use. The memory skipped. She was in a dark hallway again, passing Cornelius Fudge and someone who looked like Malfoy in forty years. She felt every trace of will leave her body, she only had one purpose in mind and it was wonderful, not have a care in the world and all she had to focus on was the prophecy...the prophecy...get the prophecy. ...she was alone in a large room full of shelves, rows upon rows just full of powerful objects. Row 96...row 97...she turned and was walking down a row with shelves from floor to ceiling, full of odd glass orbs. They looked like remembralls. She reached up to remove one from its pedestal and-- _

Lian felt herself almost bodily thrown from that memory. Whatever happened next had caused the man who could now only mumble in a language no one understood to be in this state. He had been working in a very select part of the Ministry when someone...someone… 

A door closed, causing her to look around. Harry and the others were grouped together, whispering about something. Neville and his grandmother were gone. She looked around at the man, Bode, who had fallen asleep sometime during her dive.  _ As if he wasn’t defenseless enough. _ She glanced towards his presents, the hippogriff calendar and the potted plant. It was an odd little thing, she’d never seen a gift quite like it. She was terrible at practical herbology, otherwise she might have tried to identify it. 

Feeling as though she’d ridden the subway during rush-hour, she got to her feet and began to reach for the door. She’d barely gripped the handle when it opened sharply, the edge slamming into her forehead. “OW!”

“Oh-I’m so sorry ma’a--JULES! FREAKING what are you doing out of bed?” Jake was standing there, looking both relieved and cross. “Do you have any idea how panic-inducing it is to go to your own sisters hospital bed and find her missing? Don’t do that again--this time you’re coming to the tea room with me!”

Lian’s feeble protests of not wanting any tea were met with her little brother’s stubbornly deaf ears. He led her up a flight of stairs and then through a door which opened out into a spacy sitting room with lush carpet and soft-cushioned chairs. Teapots were heating themselves along a mahogany table, lined up with scones and cookies--or as the Brits say ‘biscuits’. 

The room was empty except for four people, all sitting together around a cozy fireplace. Three of them had familiar red hair, two of them were identical. Jake, oblivious to any recognition that Lian displayed, plopped her down in a very tall armchair, smiling around at the gentlemen. “Good afternoon. Would you mind if my sister and I joined you?”

Fred and George Weasley looked around at her in amazement, and then up at Jake in wonder. The other redhead, who had to be a Weasley, but not one that she’d ever seen before, what with his long hair pulled into a ponytail and the fanged earing, nodded. The fourth member of their group, was the one that Lian was concerned about. As Jake smiled warmly and moved away to grab something for the pair of them, she could only wonder what Professor Dumbledore was doing at St. Mungo’s on Christmas Day.


	21. There's No Place Like It, and Thank Goodness

As luck would have it, he appeared to be in a chatty mood. “Good afternoon,” said Professor Dumbledore, gazing steadily at her over his half-moon glasses. Lian felt a as though he was trying to see through her, and began to repeat her mantra over and over in her head to prevent him from seeing anything she didn’t want him to,  _ Like how the Ministry only let me come to England if I--whoops. Calm like a pool, reflective, not offensive. Calm like a pool, reflective, not offensive.  _ “I am glad to see that you are doing better than when you left Madam Pomfrey’s care. I daresay she was a little overwhelmed by your condition. How are you feeling?”

As Jake took the seat beside her, shooting her a questioning look, Lian cleared her throat. “I’m awake, so that’s something.” She sipped from the mug Jake had provided, finding the flavor stronger than expected. It was new, but not unwelcome. 

“Indeed. Would you be so kind as to introduce me to this young man?” Dumbledore gestured at Jake, who was elegantly slouching into the cushions. He nodded his head at Dumbledore when he was mentioned.

“Right. This is my brother, Jake. Jake, this is Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.” Lian bit her tongue so she wouldn’t laugh. Jake quickly sat up straight as though he’d slammed on the brakes in a moving vehicle. 

“You’re the head honcho of Pi--I mean, Hogwarts? Cool. Jacob Kowalski II, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Jake threw in a peace sign at the end, which made Lian titter into her tea. 

At the mention of the full name, Dumbledore adopted a new gleam in his eye, as though it meant something to him. “I’m sorry I missed meeting the rest of your family before they left, Ms.Kowalski,” he said solemnly. “I know you had planned to spend the holidays at Hogwarts, but given the change in circumstances, I wonder if your plans had changed?”

Lian was confused at first, but then realized what Professor Dumbledore was indicating. Her parents had left Jake here, with her, to aid her while she recovered. Once she was released from St. Mungo’s care...where could they go? “Uh…”

“Of course I would normally welcome him to Hogwarts for the remainder of the break, but with our High Inquisitor buzzing around the hallways, I must refrain from doing so. However, I think there is a place for you both, once the hospital discharges you.” His gaze was so piercing, Lian wondered momentarily if her defenses were enough. “I only ask whether or not you trust me, Ms. Kowalski?”

_ What an odd question. Of course not.  _ “Yes, Professor.” 

Dumbledore held her gaze for a moment, or possibly a thousand years. Then, after one last glance at Jake, he set down his tea and rose to his feet. “Very well. I shall make the necessary arrangements. Happy Christmas to you all.”

He left the tea room with surprising speed, and when he was gone, Lian was left to stare around at the Weasley boys. “Is he always like that?”

“Like what?” asked the older one, whose name she didn’t yet know.

“Vague.” said Jake, before shoving another scone into his mouth.

“For the better part of the time, yes.” he said, nodding. “I’m Bill, by the way, Bill Weasley.”

Lian introduced herself and Jake made a kind of noise that could have been his name. The twins chuckled. “Lian’s never talked about you before,” began Fred.

“Lian hasn’t really talked about anyone before,” added George.

“Now that we’ve-”

“Finally got an outside source-”

“Tell us-”

“Who is Lian Kowalski?” they finished together. Jake watched the exchange with raised eyebrows before stage whispering out of the corner of his mouth.

“They get along better than the King twins.” he said, referencing the only other pair of twins he’d seen up close. And those boys weren’t even identical.

“King twins?” repeated George.

“Twin Kings?” reversed Fred.

“Wicked.”

“Right, you asked a question,” said Jake, rubbing his hands together. “Who is Lian Kowalski--well, her real name isn’t Lian its Julianne. But her truest name is Jules, which is reserved my usage only--its exclusive even. Perry Thompson tried three years ago and she landed them both in detention--with a broken fist and he had a broken nose. True story.”

“I didn’t break my fist, I sprained my thumb,” corrected Lian, before taking another sip. “Perry has a face like a fairy.”

“You would know,” countered Jake. “Let’s see what else? She’s the best in Transfiguration and Alchemy, and if our school had Care of Magical Creatures she’d be good at that too. But she wasn’t always--one year she accidentally transfigured her ears into that of a rabbit, and then someone jinxed her so she had a tail for a whole week.”

The Weasley boys all burst into laughter, while Lian glared, despite the grin that was breaking out across her face. “As I recall, that someone was you.”

“Guilty.” Jake grinned evilly. “That was my first year, too. I mean, I was trying to help but what did I know? Let me see, should I just skim over the highlights?”

“No,” said Lian, at the exact same moment the other three cried, “Yes.”

“First year you set the record for homework because you turned in the assignments before the teacher actually gave them. You also set a flying moose on the Astronomy teacher who retired immediately. You got detention because the entire Pukwudgie cottage caught fire and three eyewitnesses blamed you, though no one actually had proof or knew what spell you used. And that was just before Christmas, what else did you do?”

Lian buried her face in her hands. Only one of those was actually true about her, but it was her word against Jake’s at this point. Technically, everything he was saying had actually happened, but from different perpetrators. At least she had actually punched Perry Thompson. Jake had fun for the next ten minutes, describing various misdeeds that Lian might have been responsible for: the twins and their older brother laughed long and hard until they were wheezing. It was good to see them laugh. Lian had noticed, (as had Jake she suspected,) the three brothers seemed tense. Jake, a true Pukwudgie at heart, likely sensed what they needed most was a pick-me-up; at her expense. Luckily, she didn't mind too much. 

When she began to look drowsy, Jake stopped sharing tall tales and tapped her knee. “Come on,” he said bracingly, hauling her on her feet. “Let’s take you back to the room.” He waved to the Weasley’s, who had stood with them as they made to leave. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” 

“It usually is,” said Bill dryly. “Here-” he moved forward and, after asking permission first, picked Lian up as though she were a small child. She vaguely remembered the descent to the fourth floor, settling in her hospital bed, and blearily saying goodbye to the Weasleys as they left. 

“Jake?” She murmured as he tucked her in. 

“Hm?”

“Play the radio…” she pleaded softly. Her eyelids were so heavy at that point she couldn't see him grinning, but she could sense it all the same. 

“You got it.” She drifted to sleep to the tunes of The Stone Roses. 

  
  


The Healers were reluctant to release her, it was as though they wanted to study her for the rest of her holiday break. A day later, as they were checking her out of St. Mungo’s at the front desk, Lian reflected that she never did find out who had set her up in the private room. It didn’t sound like something Dumbledore would do; or really anyone else she knew. Jake didn’t seem too bothered by it, just grateful to be getting out of there. Lian didn’t have the heart to tell him that she wasn’t aware of any good pizza joints around London. 

As soon as they stepped outside, they found themselves on a regular No-Maj street, surrounded by British people. Two people walked right up to them and discreetly said they’d been sent by Dumbledore. Lucky for them, Lian possessed the ability to tell truth from lies because if they had been lying, she and Jake were street savvy enough to take care of themselves. The woman was so indescribable Lian suspected it was intentional but she couldn't believe anyone would use that many curses just to blend in. The man was familiar to Lian, though he was wearing a bowler hat that was pulled low over one side of his face, and wore a long, dusty trench coat. It was when she noticed the clawed, wooden foot that she identified him has the ex-auror she’d spotted on platform 9 ¾.  _ And their names are...Alastor Moody and...Yikes.  _

“Your name is Nymphadora?” Lian blurted, squinting at the indiscriminate woman. 

“ _ Lian! _ ” Jake hissed beside her. 

“Yeah, and I'll thank you to never bring that lovely bit of information up again.” The woman didn't ask how Lian knew her name. She seemed more irritated over the fact that she’d said it aloud. Lian could respect that. 

“Right. Sorry. Where are we going?” she asked sheepishly. 

“Walk casually, like a family out for a walk.” Nymphadora instructed. Before their eyes she changed her appearance until she resembled Lian and Jake, adopting his eyes and her nose, with long dark hair. She could’ve passed as their long lost older sister, but Lian suspected she was aiming for mother. They began to walk, taking direction from their pretend grandfather. 

“Isn't she-?” Jake whispered after a couple of blocks. London in the snow was picturesque, but freezing, and when he spoke the words were accompanied by puffs of steam. 

“A metamorphmagus, yes. Speaking of which--” Lian suddenly remembered something he’d written her a month or so ago. “Didn't you pass Kamau’s class?”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. Wanna see?” Before she could protest, he dodged into a side alley. She kept up with the adults, glancing over her shoulder in mild curiosity until a German Shepherd dashed up to her side, its tail wagging and tongue lolling. It looked every bit the part, except its eyes were bright blue.

“Right, we’ll stroll through the park here, and--wotcher!” Nymphadora justed noticed Jake was missing, and in his place trotted the K9 unit. “What happened to your brother?”

“What are you talking about?” Lian asked innocently. “I don’t have a brother. It’s just me and my dog. Obviously.”

“Since when are American wizards in the business of learning Self-Transfiguration?” growled Mr. Moody in the bowler hat, not even turning his head. Lian surmised that his magical eye could help him see more than in just 3-D. 

“Since six years ago their Transfiguration department hired a man from Africa.” answered Lian. “It was an experimental class with varied results.” Beside her, the German Shepherd barked. 

“Keep him in check until we get there.” The ex-auror demanded, as he led the way into the local park. The part of town they’d wandered into looked rather like the British version of their neighborhood back in New York, except the townhomes were all a rather dark and depressing color.

Moody came to a pause on a street called Grimmauld Place, and set his sights on a spot between the two buildings, number 11 and number 13. Glancing around, Lian vaguely wondered what had happened to number 12. Suddenly, as Moody moved through the iron gate as though it wasn’t there at all, Nymphadora, Lian and the dog in his wake, it appeared. Without much preamble or time to really take it in, Moody ushered them inside, glaring at the dog with his one visible eye and likely with the magical one as well.

“Wotcher, Molly, we found ‘em--like Dumbledore asked.” Nymphadora was saying to a plump woman with red hair just inside the threshold. Lian took the opportunity to give the inside a quick look; it was a gloomy sort of place and she couldn’t believe anyone would actually live here. Beside her, the shepherd whined and pawed at the ground. “Where’s he now?”

“He’ll be around sometime later, and just as well. With the passing of the holidays we’ve enough work to do.” The woman was looking over at Lian and her puppy brother with a furrowed brow. “I thought Dumbledore said there were two of them..?”

Lian tapped Jake on his snout, and he snorted, but in a blink of an eye he’d turned into a fifteen year old boy again. The woman looked startled, and yet something about her lack of amazement told Lian that she was well accustomed to being surprised. She looked every bit a motherly type, the only thing missing was-

“Mum!”  _ There it is. _ “I can’t find my jumper!” Ginny Weasley stuck her head out from the next floor, her gaze sweeping over the little group in the entry way. “Hi Kowalski!”

Lian smiled up at her, as her brain connected the dots. The matron barring the way before her was the mother of all the Weasley’s she’d met this year. Movement at her right caught her eye and she glanced sideways in time to catch Jake eying the Weasley girl in appreciation. Lian ever so discreetly stamped on his toes. 

“We’re a bit cramped for space,” Mrs. Weasley was saying. “Unless you’d want to sleep in a cursed room--which I wouldn’t recommend. You’re siblings, correct? You won’t mind sharing room's?” Lian shook her head for herself and Jake, who was rubbing his foot while balancing on the other one. “Good. Follow me then, and keep it down while you’re on the stairs.” 

“Why?” asked Jake.

“Believe me,” Ginny answered on behalf of her mother. “You don’t wanna know.”

By sharing room’s, it transpired that Lian and Jake were expected to share with one another. Which was fine--they’d shared a room until Seraphina had been born. At least he wouldn’t complain if she cranked the radio up at random intervals. 

“This is where the Weasley’s live?” Jake asked as they settled in the depressingly dark and abandoned bedroom. An extra cot had been set up for either one of them, though if they just transformed they could share and it’d be fine. 

“Somehow I don’t think so. If you lit the place up, let in natural light and cleared away the general dark magic decor, it would be a beautiful manor of a pureblood family.” Lian listed as she gazed around at the walls, which were covered in Slytherin regalia.

“The Weasleys are pureblood,” Jake guessed.

“Yes, but there’s an annoying twatt in my House that calls them blood-traitors, so they’ve been stripped of their status in the wizarding world.”

“Twatt?” Jake repeated with a chuckle. “Look who’s picking up slang terms.”

“Yeah, I probably sound to British people the way you sound to Italian families.” Lian zinged with a grin. Jake glowered at her.

“I’m getting better!”

“Yeah right. If I hear you pulling your ‘Ciao bella’ on Ginny I’ll tell her about the bed-wetting incident of 1991.” Lian threatened light-heartedly.

“You swore you’d never bring that up again!”

“Who the blazes set you up in here?” a voice growled from behind Lian, and she whirled around to face a shadow of a man. He had long black hair and a sort of rockstar vibe, but his dark steel eyes were like that of a dead man walking. He looked furious that they were standing in the bedroom of whomever it belonged to previously, and then confused as he realized that he had no idea who they were. But Lian hardly needed a full dive to discern who he was.

_ Sirius Black. _ Instinctively she thrust out an arm behind her to protect Jake, her other hand going for her wand, pointing it swiftly at the wizard’s chest. She’d done some reading up on him in the old newspapers they kept in the library after she’d heard the name a few times at school, and his record was nothing to laugh at; though why he was at Dumbledore’s ‘safe’ house, she couldn’t fathom. But that was not the priority. 

Black looked down at her defensive and offensive stance for a moment, then threw back his head and released a mad, bark of a laugh. Lian and Jake whipped their wands and struck.


	22. Who Let the Dogs Out?

_ Anaticula? Really, Jake? Now is not the time!  _ Lian shot her brother a glare as he sent off the first hex. His eyes were fixed on the wizard in the doorway, knowing that he should be on guard only because she was. He had no idea who Sirius Black was, the No-Majs he’d killed, or the high-level prison he’d escaped from nearly three years previously. 

But Lian knew. Answers could be given later, for now she only had to disable him until more qualified wizards could arrive. 

_ Incarcerous!  _ Thick cords shot out from the tip of her wand and bound the escaped mass-murderer, who was still laughing his head off like the insane man the newspapers had reported him to be. 

“What's going--” the last person she expected to see ran up the stairs. “Lian!?” 

“Harry?!”

“Jake!” Her brother exclaimed stupidly. “Will somebody explain why we’re attacking this guy?” 

“No--don't!” Harry Potter jumped in front of Lian’s wand. “Lian put that away--he won't hurt you--he isn't a threat!”

“He's a murderer!” Lian spat, trying to aim around Harry, but he kept moving in the way. 

“He’s not! He's my Godfather!” Harry yelled. “Please put your wand away!” 

Lian froze, her eyes finding Harry's and, ignoring the consequences, she dived into his mind. 

It was a very interesting place, once she got past the stupid angst and girl-crush nonsense. In a moment she saw his entire life, feeling what he’d felt, seeing what he’d seen.  _ So. Much. Anger.  _ But there was something wrong. Something that didn't belong there... _ But there is good. There has to be.  _ And it came in the form of a stag. It charged through her and she witnessed the good with the bad.  _ He loves flying. He’ll do anything for his friends. For his family. Family.  _ Lian beheld a photo album, its pages flipping before her and filling her vision with pictures of a young man who looked like Harry,  and a beautiful woman who had his eyes.  _ Family.  _ She saw Sirius Black. Saw him gaunt and haunted, saw him wrestling with a squat man in a decaying room. Saw him riding off into the night astride a hippogriff. Saw--

“JULES!” Jake was shaking her. How had she gotten to the floor? Someone was moaning to her left. The laughter had stopped. “Jules! Stop it! Get out!” 

Lian snatched his hand from where it rested on her shoulder. “It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Jake released a string of very colorful words in Italian, nearly every one Giovanni and Matteo had taught him. 

“What did she do to him?” Someone spoke in a gruff voice. “What does he need?” 

“To be honest, no one's ever reacted to her like this.” Jake answered. Lian turned her head to see Black cradling Harry’s head in his hands. The Boy-Who-Lived looked oddly pale and limp. She sat up suddenly, crawling over to him. 

_ I did this? _ “No one’s ever reacted, actually.” She clarified, noticing Black’s slight recoil when she came near. “I'm not gonna hex you. I saw what you are to him.” 

“You saw..?” Black’s eyes widened. “You mean to tell me that you’re a--”

“Is this really a priority?” Lian snapped. She patted Harry’s face. “Wake up, Harry, or they’ll all kill me.” 

“Let me see-” Jake moved her aside, pulling out his wand and using it to scan him. “Most of the pain is concentrated in his forehead. Makes sense, as his mind was under siege.” He then checked Harry’s pulse and pressed his knuckles to his cheek. “Cold, clammy,” he muttered. “Heartbeats at...120 beats per minute.”

“Who are you people?” Black grunted, torn between concern for Harry and confusion at Jake, plus defense towards Lian. “What are you doing in my family’s house?” 

“Dumbledore.” Lian replied, not sure what this would mean to him. Apparently though, it was enough. Black’s expression cleared almost immediately. 

But then he growled and muttered a few colorful phrases himself. 

“Here he comes,” said Jake, scooting back, stowing his wand. Harry stirred and looked around at the three of them. 

“What happened?” 

Lian cleared her throat. “In the words of my esteemed colleague: you  _ fainted _ , Potter.” She said, imitating Malfoy’s sneer. 

Harry rolled his eyes and sat up. “When did he tell you that one?”

“He didn't.” Lian realized she’d seen that in Harry’s memories. “It happened in your third year though, right?”  _ You know, around the time Sirius was trying to break into the school.  _

“Hang on,” Harry frowned at her. “How would you know if no one told you?”

“Because she’s a-” Black began, but stopped when Jake caused a diversion. He sneezed and transformed before their very eyes. “Merlin’s pants!”

Jake barked, before he began licking Lian’s face. “Gross!” He then rounded on Harry and Black, his rump in the air and tail wagging. Both wizards looked absolutely stunned at the sudden change, unable to say anything before Jake sniffed the air and bolted from the room. 

“He’s an Animagus?” said Harry hoarsely. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? He put in years of study and there you go.” Lian rubbed her eyes. She suspected where he’d run off to and was using every amount of self-control to not dash after him. 

“Years? He's twelve!” Black said in indignation. 

“Fifteen, actually,” Lian placed a hand on her stomach. “Do you people actually eat or just sit around until you  _ faint  _ from hunger?”

Harry laughed. 

 

Dumbledore did not return that night. Nor did he visit the following morning. The household consisted of the majority of the Weasley family, Hermione Granger, Harry and Sirius Black, who was the host. Allegedly there was a house elf around there somewhere but either he’d crawled into the chimney and died or was hiding in the floorboards. Everyone was quick to warm up to Jake, who spent his first few mealtimes as a dog much to the Weasley matron’s disapproval. But not even she could say no to his puppy eyes. 

For herself, Lian found a quiet corner in one of the upper room's, where she would sit and read for hours. The house did not react to her quite as terribly as it did the other inhabitants, and Black mentioned something about his family all being in Slytherin. So, even if she wasn’t pureblood per say, the most ancient and noble house of Black certainly tolerated her more than anyone else taking up space in there. For instance, she didn’t get hexed when she tried to open locked doors; Mrs. Weasley had used this neat trick to her advantage, gaining access to room's that had previously been unreachable. 

It was the day before the end of break, Lian had barricaded herself within the Black family library. After having quite a few books scream at her, (having the entire genealogy section swear at her was frighteningly hysterical: “You’re a blaggard and a nincompoop!”,) she finally found what she was looking for-- _ Ancient Wizarding Law.  _ She was immersed in deciphering several of the Latin words when she heard the door to the library creak open. 

Not expecting anyone in particular, she was nonplussed to see Professor Dumbledore enter the dusty room. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy I see,” he said in soft amusement, his eyes scanning the piles of books she’d sorted through and tossed aside, now literally abandoned and scattered across the grey carpet. He adjusted his robes and came to kneel about a foot away from her. “Quite the volume you’ve got there, I might add.” He added, sounding a bit more serious as he spotted the title along the spine. 

“This house likes me,” Lian observed. “It hasn't given me dragon pox, yet.” 

“A sign of goodwill, if ever I saw one,” said Dumbledore with a smile. “Tell me, Ms. Kowalski, what have you observed over the past week or so?”

It was already a strange question, but the way he phrased it suddenly made her feel very guilty. Maybe he’d searched Umbridges office while she went on a skiing trip. Or maybe Lian wasn't as adept at Occlumency as she’d believed. The folded sheet of parchment inside her pocket suddenly felt as though it had caught fire. It hadn't, but in that moment, Lian realized that it would be almost impossible to lie to this man. “How long have you known?” She asked finally, resigning to what was coming. He was probably going to expel her. 

“I regret to say since the first day we met over the summer,” he declared somberly. “As good as your intentions were and are, there is very little that occurs in the halls of Hogwarts that I am not aware of; however,” he locked gazes with her. “I did not bring you to Black Manor to give you a juggernaut of information to hand over to Madam Umbridge.”

Lian blinked slowly. It was very strange speaking with someone who could block her out so completely. She could at least sense emotions from Snape, not that he hid them. “No...I don't suppose you did.”

“Have you the slightest idea then, why I arranged for you and your brother to stay with these people?” Dumbledore prompted, watching her closely over his glasses. 

Lian marked the page she was on and closed the book with a snap. “I'm not naive enough to play games, sir. Please make your point clear before I let the Black bloodline read themselves to you.” 

The old wizard chuckled at her threat. “I am not playing games. I only wanted to give you the opportunity to say what you already know. Nevertheless, I will speak in the silence: I brought you here because I needed you to see who your reports would affect. You’ve seen how much Sirius means to Harry. How everyone who comes and goes out of this rather gloomy house has banded together in times of uncertainty.”

“So, you've brought me here to feel ashamed and guilty. Great. Just great.” Lian began to stack books and get to her feet. “I’ll go get my stuff then.”

“Please let me finish.” Dumbledore held up a hand as she made to move past him. “I am not expelling you. On the contrary, I want to help you.” 

“You want to help me spy on you?” Lian said skeptically. 

“I want to help you get out from under the Ministry’s thumb,” said Dumbledore evenly. 

She crossed her arms, jerking her head at the scattered books and scrolls. “What do you think I've been trying to do?” 

“What you're looking for cannot be found in print,” he began, but Lian shook her head. 

“She's got the power of the Minister in her hip pocket, and he’s so ignorant that he doesn't know which way to turn, so she literally can do whatever she wants--for instance enforce her will on you and your teachers; or hold my education in her control.” She released a sigh. “I have to find a way to beat her legally--because everything she’s doing to me can't be allowed to happen in society.”

“Your ideals and intentions are pure,” the Headmaster conceded. “Unfortunately, the world and its inhabitants in positions of power are not so.” 

“Then someone needs to get out of office,” she snapped. 

“There are hundreds of Umbridges and Fudges in the political world, removing these two won't fix it.” He said sagely. 

“Then what will?” Lian demanded. 

“I think you'll find that taking small steps can make all the difference in the world. I implore with you please, to allow me to council with you. After that, the choice is yours how you will act.” Dumbledore gestured to the space she’d only just vacated. “I promise I will not waste your time.” 

Again, something in the way he phrased his speech alerted her that he knew something more than he was speaking. Deciding that she could spare a minute, she reclaimed her seat on the floor. “Okay then, you have my attention.” 

 

Almost two hours later when she entered the kitchen, Lian was met with the most tense sensation. Harry and Sirius were sitting at the table, while Professor Snape was standing at a respectable distance between the chair and the door. 

_ If Snape’s here, that means he’s on Dumbledore’s side.  _ Lian realized, gazing up at her head of house curiously. His dark eyes flitted towards her for a fraction before fixing back on his target. (Whether that was Black or Harry, Lian didn't know.) 

“Ahh, Ms. Kowalski--I needed to speak with you as well.” Snape said, gesturing to the table.

_ If you won't sit with them what makes you think I will? _ She thought rebelliously before pulling up a chair across from Sirius, who looked livid. “What's going on?”

“The Headmaster has asked that I give Potter here Occlumency lessons,” said Snape, speaking as though he’d been asked to star in Chicago. “He also mentioned that I should extend the same courtesy to you.” 

Lian blinked, and Harry looked around at her in bewilderment. “Me? What for?”

“You’re losing control; as evidenced by your recent collapses.” Snape replied, taking a few inches out of Lian’s ego as he did so. “For your sanity and safety, Professor Dumbledore believes you should have private lessons with me.” 

A million arguments entered her mind, but she merely nodded. 

“That's it?” Oddly, it was Black who raised the protest, looking between the Head of House and student. “Have you any idea what kind of filth this man is made of?” 

Lian fixed Black with a withering look. He leaned back in his chair, unaffected, and yet she distinctly heard him mutter, “Slytherins…” He glared over at Snape, and said in a louder tone,  “Why can’t Dumbledore teach Harry? Why you?”

“I suppose because it is a headmaster’s privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks,” said Snape silkily. “I assure you I did not beg for the job. I will expect you--” speaking to Harry “-- at six o’clock on Monday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them.”

“And me, sir?” Lian asked quietly.

“Seven o’clock on Monday. You can tell anyone who asks that you’re studying to be a potioneer.”

Lian grimaced but said nothing.  _ Anyone who has seen me in your classes would believe that. _

He turned to leave, his black traveling cloak billowing behind him. “Wait a moment,” said Sirius, sitting up straighter in his chair. Snape turned back to face them, sneering.

“I am in rather a hurry, Black...unlike you, I do not have unlimited time…”

“I’ll get to the point, then,” said Sirius, standing up. Lian looked on, unable to look away and yet also had the feeling that she was intruding on something old and private. It was not unlike the feeling she’d first received while watching her Housemates mock the Gryffindors. Black proceeded to threaten Snape, in an attempt to convince him to not abuse Harry during these Occlumency lessons. 

Lian frowned at the insinuation, catching Harry’s eye and mouthing, ‘Does he not understand? Occlumency is meant to help, not hurt.’ But Harry just shook his head, giving Snape a dark look. However, this look was erased when both wizards started insulting each other and drew their wands. Harry jumped to his feet and shoved himself between the two in an attempt to prevent an ugly duel from breaking out. Just as Black pushed him away with one hand, the kitchen door burst open and the entire Weasley family, plus the lioness, marched inside, all looking very happy. Mr. Weasley was with them, dressed in a pair of pajamas and beaming around the room.

“Cured!” he announced brightly to the kitchen at large. “Completely cured!”

He and all the other Weasley’s froze on the threshold, gazing at the scene in front of them, which was also suspended in mid-action, both Sirius and Snape looking toward the door with their wands pointing into each other’s faces and Harry immobile between them, a hand stretched out to each of them, trying to force them apart.

Not to mention, Lian sitting quietly at the table, watching the scene nervously.

“Merlin’s beard,” said Mr. Weasley, the smile sliding off his face, “what’s going on here?”

Snape, for his part, backed away and stowed his wand. He glanced at Lian one last time before he exited out the door, without so much as an acknowledgement of the Weasley’s. When the questions started being asked, Lian found it the perfect opportunity to slip away. She had a few things to think about.

She found Jake in their room, which they’d found out last week had originally belonged to Sirius Black’s younger brother. When the house elf reappeared, he threw a nasty tantrum outside the room, screaming himself hoarse--or he would’ve done if Lian hadn’t silenced him through the door after the first yelp. 

Jake was taking a nap as a dog, something he’d decided was his new habit, which she found both cute and annoying. She scratched behind his ears in a gentle effort to wake him, but he only snored softly, so she moved to lay on her back and gaze at the dark canopy. She thought about what Dumbledore had told her, thought about things she'd seen over the past few weeks. She wondered if Hogwarts was worth all the trouble she’d gone through. 

_ Don't think that. Don't you dare. After everything you’ve done to be here; don't you dare say it wasn't worth it. Besides, there's a bigger reason than you _ . Her brain scolded her, and she actually did feel ashamed for a moment. 

She would never forget what had happened five years previously, not that she would ever accept it.  _ There’s still time. I have all the time in the world.  _ It was thoughts like this that led her into an uneasy slumber.


	23. Conflicting Opinions

Jake returned to America  via floo network that next morning. She almost didn’t want to let him leave, but he seemed excited to be going back to school. When he hugged her goodbye, he whispered in her ear, “They don’t know, do they? About what you can do?” 

“Which part?”

“You know...the beast. Jason had mentioned something but I thought by now...you’d have told someone.”

Lian gave him a squeeze. “It’s none of their concern.”

“Still. You’re being really secretive, and I don’t like it. What’s wrong?” Jake refused to let her go at that point. “You don’t have to seclude yourself. Trust someone.”

“I know. Give my love to everyone back at Ilvermorny, will you?” 

And then he’d left, his last look at her more piercing than a knife’s point. 

Nymphadora, (though she insisted Lian call her Tonks,) and another man named Remus Lupin accompanied her and the Griffindors back to school via a very strange mode of transportation called the Knight bus. It was a triple decked, magical bus that the No-Majs couldn't see at all.  _ I wonder if Squibs can? _ It had a horrible habit of blasting through the better parts of the English countryside without warning, and by the time they got off in Hogsmeade, Lian had to excuse herself so she could vomit. It didn't go well with the deep snow drifts that blanketed the village. 

As she rejoined them on the way up to the castle, she didn't have to try to listen to Harry’s internal war, it was practically screaming at her. He’d been miffed ever since Snape had left yesterday, offended and indignant that he was required to have private lessons with the potions master. She’d overheard him complaining about the prospect to Ron and Hermione earlier; the prospect of having to march all the way up to the castle with him grumbling silently was going to drive her insane. 

_ Ohhh _ . It dawned on her that this was exactly why Dumbledore wanted her to learn Occlumency as well. Every time someone around her was feeling particularly emotional, she couldn't help but tune in and be at the mercy of whatever was causing them grief. It'd been easier at Ilvermorny, she’d had a close group who knew about her abilities, and whenever they built up steam they knew not to let it out around her because she’d only magnify the problem. 

_ But here _ ... _ what would be the point _ ? Lian had been more concerned with staying in the school than with planting roots within it. She’d been friendly enough to people to fit in anywhere but there wasn't any one place she could go and feel completely understood.  _ I was close with Theo but...after what he’s learned I’ll be lucky to ever hear from him again.  _

“Lian?” Hermione was speaking to her. “Did you hear me?” 

She looked around to see them all looking at her. “Sorry no, what?” 

“I was saying that Snape told you to meet him for Occlumency lessons as well.” Hermione said, eying Lian skeptically. “At least, according to Harry. But why do you need to learn Occlumency? Who do you need to block out?”

“I mean, assuming you’re not getting visions of You-Know-Who dancing about in your head,” added Ron, trying to be funny. 

“Can't say that I have,” Lian said with a shrug. “I just…” she hesitated, trying to summon the vaguest and yet correct word. “Struggle. And it’s been messing with my health, so according to the Headmaster it’s in my best interest to learn how to properly clear my mind.”

“Yes but--Harry needs to to block people from...Ohhh,” Hermione’s eyes widened as she gazed at Lian, as if seeing her for the first time. Lian didn’t even have to look at her to know that she was starting to figure her out. 

Deciding it would be best to change the subject quickly before the rest of them became invested, she asked, “When’s the next Quidditch match?”

“Well first the snow has to melt,” said George matter-of-factly.

“We’d play Quodpot in the snow,” Lian replied. “You Brits can be quite wimpy you know.”

“I beg your pardon!” said Fred indignantly.

“What’s Quodpot?” asked Harry.

“It’s the American Quidditch,” Ginny supplied, rolling her eyes at the idea.

“It’s really not,” Lian argued. “It’s got eleven players, instead of seven, for one thing.” She launched into an explanation of Quodpot, to educate Harry and keep Hermione quiet. If the lioness had part of her figured out and believed it to be a whole, then it would keep her satisfied.  _ Just so long as no one else finds out about the other stuff.  _

 

When they arrived back at the castle, chilled to the bone, she parted from the Gryffindors and made her way down to the dungeons without interruption. The Slytherin common room was partially filled, but no one hailed her as she moved to the girls dormitory. Once inside, and noticing with some amount of relief that her roommates were not back yet, she noticed a small mountain at the foot of her bed, comprised of neatly wrapped gifts.

_ Oh yeah...because I was supposed to be here on Christmas Day... _ She crossed the room and climbed onto her bed, reaching for the nearest package. She had wondered why her parents hadn’t left her anything when she was in the hospital, and Jake wasn’t exactly the master of gifts, but that wasn’t the point of the holidays so she kept her mouth shut. 

Her mother had gifted her with a leather bound journal, and a self-inked quill. Being a pureblood, her mother never got used to pens and pencils, but she did understand their uses. Her father had sent cookie...ingredients. Apparently his philosophy of only eating freshly baked goods went so far as to encourage her to make them herself. These she set aside for later. She’d received a few cards from her friends at Ilvermorny, and Jason had sent her an eagle feather quill, which she was pretty sure he’d plucked himself. She’d received a letter from her great-uncle, who was away on a trip in Australia, on the hunt for a new breed of acromantulas. The parchment had a few nibbles on it, and she hoped that was from one of his own companions, not a giant Australian spider. Vera had sent her a box full of her preferred dark chocolate, and tried to sneak in something a bit sweeter.  _ Chocolate, _ her friend would say,  _ is a girl’s lifeblood. If you’re not eating enough chocolate you’re gonna lose the better parts of yourself.  _ And then she’d finish by taking a huge bite for herself. She’d also received a new scarf, which had pockets sewn into it. It had Ilvermorny school colors, and she wondered if she’d get in trouble for wearing it with her school robes, but then remembered that she didn’t care.  _ They’re still school colors, technically. _

The thing that surprised her the most was a small note on her bedside table. 

_ Kowalski, _

_ I had a gift for you, but since you were in St. Mungo’s over the holidays, I couldn’t very well just leave it for you. If you still want it, meet me on the 7th floor corridor by that old tapestry, Sunday night. _

It wasn’t signed, but Lian had enough of an antsy disposition to still go. Grabbing her wand and her new scarf, she rushed out of the dormitory, through the common room and out into the frigid dungeons. She wrapped the scarf around her neck and stuffed her hands into the pockets, not caring what she looked like. 

She crossed the castle without hassle, though she did spy Pansy and Daphne returning from their holidays. They were bantering about something loudly as they walked and she didn't want to disturb them. At least, that's what she told herself as she hid behind a suit of armor to avoid getting spotted by them. 

She reached the 7th floor corridor, thinking it a very strange meeting place, even stranger when she saw the boy waiting for her there. 

“Sorpreso?”  _ Surprised? _

Lian waved the note at him in skepticism.  _ “ _ Tu? Avere un regalo per me?”  _ You? have a gift for me? _

He tossed her a small box, which she caught deftly, not taking her eyes off of him. Lian turned to leave, but paused as she heard the words fall from his lips. “Sangue sporco.”  _ Dirty blood. _

Without turning her head or batting an eyelid, she replied, “Mi dispiace che ti offenda.”  _ I’m sorry for how I’ve hurt you.  _

From Lian’s peripheral, she could see the pouty faced boy curling his lip. “Come me hai fatto male?”  _ And just how have you hurt me? _

Shoving the little box into her scarf pocket she replied, “Ho violato la tua privacy.”  _ I violated your privacy. _ She glanced at him, daring to meet his root beer eyes. “Dal momento in cui ti ho conosciuto ti ho messo giu.”  _ From the moment I met you I knocked you down. _ She nodded her head once. “Che era ingiusto.”  _ That was unfair. _ “Ma tu sei anche ingiusto e disgustoso per me.”  _ But you have also been unfair and unkind to me.  _ “Questo e un errore; quando pensi a cosa possa fare.”  _ That’s a mistake; when you think about what I can do. _

Zabini narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flared as though he were about to bear fangs or breathe fire. “E cosa puoi esattamente fare?”  _ And what exactly can you do?” _

“Conosco la verita sul tuo padre.”  _ I know the truth… Do you need further explanations?  _ “Hai bisogno di ulteriori spiegazioni?”

Zabini charged forward, drawing his wand, while she remained quite still, though her own wand was vibrating like mad in her robes. “Tu puttana, non osare!”  _ You wouldn’t dare! _

Even as he grabbed the front of her robes and shoved his wand under her throat so that its point was digging into her esophagus, she did not flinch. “Non puoi nascondere la verita.”  _ You cannot hide the truth.  _ “Volontariamente o no sara scoperti.”  _ It will be discovered whether you like it or not.  _ Zabini released her, his sides heaving as he struggled to achieve that perfectly calm and collected state that he usually maintained. Lian turned to leave but a yellow streak of light grazed her cheek, and she saw drops of blood hit the floor. 

_ Okay. If that’s the way you want it.  _ She gripped her wand and pivoted on the spot.  _ Everte Statum! _

Zabini was knocked off his feet, thrown backwards several meters by the spell. He managed to keep a firm grip on his wand however, as he pointed it at her again, “ _ Fumos!” _

Thick black smoke shot out of his wand, circling around him and filling the corridor. Lian moved quickly and quietly, for as she could not see, neither could Zabini; but they could both hear. If she was careful, she might be able to get away before-

“ _ Relashio!”  _ Zabini yelled, firing at what had been a suit of armor. He was close to where she was pacing but apparently facing the other way. She moved faster, not wanting to play with this snake. The smoke was beginning to thin out when the door finally appeared, and she pushed her way inside, closing it behind her with a great wave of relief. 

The Room of Requirement had transformed into a cross between a museum and a junkyard per her request:  _ I need a place to hide from Zabini.  _ She saw old copies of books in piles everywhere, glimpsed a stuffed troll in the back, an old cabinet with the door hanging off its hinges, and so many random objects that had been tucked away in there. Spying a dusty mirror nearby, Lian moved to see what Zabini had done to her face. On her left cheek she found a cut about the length of her thumb. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grumbled, cleaning her face with her sleeve. How could she have been so stupid? Maybe she was feeling reckless, or maybe she'd been dumb enough to hope that someone kind had been expecting her. Certainly not the bigot from Compartment J. 

She fished inside her scarf for the box she’d received from him, not to open it but to examine it. It felt empty, but she knew that couldn't be the case. If anything, the interior was inclined to curse or hex her the moment she dared open it. Which of course, she was not going to do. Sitting on a dusty armchair, she tried to plot her next move. He probably wouldn’t have lashed out if she hadn’t spoken so freely, but she was sick of him talking down to her; particularly when they were the same height. The next time they clashed, and it was likely to be sooner rather than later; she had to be sure it was the last time. She didn’t want the additional stress added to everything else she had to worry about. 

_ Look at me, _ she thought dryly.  _ Strategizing. Taking orders. Somewhere, Coach Hendricks is having a field day. _

 

“How are you feeling?” was the question of Monday. It was there when she woke up, it was there when she crossed the common room, and it was there throughout breakfast. Everyone in Slytherin seemed to know she had been admitted to St. Mungo’s over the holidays; and the question kept shooting itself at her from all sides: the concerned, the curious, and the colluders. In any case, by the time she reached Double Potions, Lian was two steps from the edge.  _ Yet another happy reminder to why I should have Occlumency lessons and speak of the devil. _ As the heavy door to the dungeon classroom creaked open, she gave Professor Snape a very sarcastic smile as she marched past him into the room. 

Zabini rammed into her with his shoulder in an effort to beat her to the desk, but she instinctively stuck out her foot for extra balance when he knocked into her and tripped him in the process. The Gryffindors laughed behind their cauldrons, but a withering look from Lian caused it to end. She waited for Zabini to gather himself and march to a desk with Millie in a huff, completely ignoring her. 

It didn’t appear like he’d told anyone from their year about their altercation last night. Not that he would, being as proud and self-righteous as he was. She’d left the Room of Requirement after an hour, being completely assured that he would’ve gone by then, and returned to a full common room where there was very little chance he would attack her again. The cut on her cheek had scabbed over by the next morning, and she refused to talk about where it had come from. 

Snape ran the class as usual, praising the Slytherins for their efforts and completely ignoring any progress the Gryffindors made--even though Lian could tell that Seamus Finnigan had improved a great deal, as his potion didn’t explode in his face for once. Otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary happened until the bell rang for lunch. As she was climbing the staircase with the rest of her classmates, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alcove. 

“Potter,” she addressed him, in case someone from her house could hear her.

“Lian, I need to ask a favor.” he whispered. “About tonight...I was wondering if you would just come with me at six o’clock instead of seven.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I...don’t think that a private lesson with Snape-”

“Professor Snape,” she corrected.

“-I think it’d be counter-productive. And er...I don’t know anything about Occlumency so…” he shuffled his feet while he tried to think of a final statement.

Lian cleared her throat. “This was Hermione’s idea, wasn’t it?”

Harry looked relieved. “Yes.”

“Okay. See you at six.” she patted his shoulder and left him there, headed for the great hall and a turkey sandwich. 

Six o’clock came faster than she liked however, and soon she was walking to Snape’s office. She thought about waiting outside until Harry arrived, but decided it was best if she explained her actions on her own rather than hover behind another student. She knocked on the door before entering, finding it to be particularly shady that evening. As any potioneer would, Snape had shelves lined with jars filled with rare ingredients for more difficult to brew potions,and  they were all suspended in variously colored liquids. The corner contained a cupboard with dry ingredients, and on the desk was a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols. Frowning at this odd choice of table decoration, she said aloud, “Love what you’ve done with the place, sir.”

Snape, who’d been standing in the corner, probably lying in wait to pounce on Harry when he arrived, stepped out into the candlelight. “Ms. Kowalski, you’re not to be here for another hour.”

“I know. Potter asked if I could be here during his lesson, I guess as a kind of referee or middle-man.” she watched him carefully, unblinking.

For his part, Snape seemed to hear more than she was saying. “Potter’s ideas are of little meaning in my office, Ms. Kowalski.”

“It wasn’t his idea. But it might work better with me here anyway--no look, sir,” she added quickly when he went to object. “I at least understand the subject matter--Potter is coming in blind. According to you and Dumbledore he needs to study Occlumency, but if he won’t listen to you on a regular basis, why should he in private?” Snape lips were thinner than she’d ever seen them, but he gestured for her to continue. “Based on his style of learning, it might be more productive if he had another source and since Dumbledore can’t…” she trailed off, knowing ultimately that Snape was well within his rights as a teacher to boot her from his office at any moment.

“You seem to have given this a great deal of thought,” he said after a pause. “One lesson, then, and if Potter improves rather than backfires it may continue. But know that I would usually deal with each of you separately.”

“This are unusual times, are they not, sir?” Lian murmured, entirely aware that she should’ve said something along the lines of ‘thank you’ instead.

There was another knock on the door and Harry entered the room, closing the door behind him. Snape pointed silently at the chair in front of his desk, where Harry reluctantly took a seat, glancing around at Lian with raised eyebrows. Then his green eyes found Snape and the two glared at each other in silent hate.  _ Oh yes. The perfect teacher-student relationship, _ Lian found herself thinking sardonically. Snape flashed her a sharp look and she hid a chuckle inside a grunt.

“Well, Potter, you know why you are here,”  said Snape. “And presumably, you know what Kowalski is doing here.  The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope you prove more adept at it than Potions.”

“Right,” said Harry tersely.

“This may not be an ordinary class, Potter,” said Snape, his eyes narrowed malevolently, “but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me ‘sir’ or ‘Professor’ at all times.”

“Yes. . . _ sir,” _ said Harry.

Snape continued to survey him through narrowed eyes for a moment, then said, “Now, Occlumency. As I told you back in your dear godfather’s kitchen, this branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence.”

_ Guilty. _ Lian reached up to scratch her nose and hide a grin.

“And why does Professor Dumbledore think I need it, sir?” said Harry.

“Surely even you could have worked that out by now, Potter? The Dark Lord is highly skilled at Legilimency--”

“What’s that?  _ Sir _ ?”

Lian spoke up then, deciding it wouldn’t be healthy for Snape to work himself up into a boil. “It’s the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person’s mind.” Harry looked around at her in surprise. “And as emotional as you are, Harry, you’re an open book. Free sample, even.”

“What? Voldemort’s a mind reader?” said Harry in disbelief, looking from Lian to Snape. 

“You have no subtlety, Potter,” said Snape, his dark eyes glittering. “Only Muggles talk of ‘mind reading.’ The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many layered thing, Potter...or at least, most minds are…”

_ He can’t resist, can he? _ Lian raised an eyebrow as her teacher and head of House relished in insulting a fifteen year old boy. 

Snape smirked. “It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency  are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection.”

_ He’s speaking like he has experience, _ Lian thought, listening intently. For his part, Harry still thought Legilimency sounded like mind-reading and the notion did nothing to thrill him whatsoever. He asked if Voldemort could see what they were doing at this very moment and Lian had to turn away to hide her face.  _ I wish it worked like that! _ After Snape explained something about the protections and time and space, Harry found a new question to pose.

“Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?”

“The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable--when you are asleep, for instance--you are sharing the Dark Lord’s thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue. He wishes me to teach you how to close your mind to the Dark Lord.”

“But why does Professor Dumbledore want to stop it?” asked Harry abruptly. Lian fought to not roll her eyes. _He doesn’t get it! I’m coming in half-informed and I get it!_ “I don’t like it much, but it’s been useful, hasn’t it? I mean…” he glanced over at Lian cautiously before plunging onward. “I saw that snake attack Mr. Weasley, and if I hadn’t, Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t have been able to save him, would he? Sir?”

When Snape spoke, it was slowly and deliberately, as though he weighed every word. “It appears that the Dark Lord has been unaware of the connection between you and himself until very recently. Up till now it seems that you have been experiencing his emotions and sharing his thoughts without his being any the wiser. However, the vision you had shortly before Christmas represented such a powerful incursion upon the Dark Lord’s thoughts -” Snape stopped speaking abruptly when Lian cursed. 

“Sorry, Professor. I’m hearing all this for the first time and--” she gave Harry a wary expression. “You should’ve taken these lessons sooner.”

“As it is,” said Snape coolly. “He will be taking them now.”

“But why does she need them?” Harry gestured to Lian. “She’s not getting visions inside Voldemort’s head, is she? Are you?” he frowned over at her, and she shook her head quickly.

“Ms. Kowalski suffers from her own lack of control. Her abilities threaten to swallow what makes her unique and turn her into a sad reflection of who she used to be.” said Snape, speaking as though Lian were not present.

“Don’t sugar coat it, sir,” she mumbled unhappily. 

“Is there a danger of Voldemort doing that to me?” Harry asked. 

“Perhaps, if you neglect to school your mind towards Occlumency. Now, take out your wand,  _ Potter _ .” Snape barked, withdrawing his own. 

“Wait,” said Lian. “You haven't told him how to do anything,” she looked between the two in concern. “He has no idea how to defend himself. How is that teaching him?”

Snape shot her a sharp look, torn between reprimanding her and ignoring her. “The Dark Lord will give him no warning when he decides to invade his mind.”

“But you're not him, are you?” Lian challenged. “Harry, Occlumency is about making your mind blank so someone trying to look inside won't be able to pull a thought or emotion from you; anything they could use against you.” 

“How do I do that?” Harry looked confused, but his mind was all over the place. He was focusing on the argument Snape and Black had engaged in back at the Manor. He really hated Snape. He-

“Harry!” Lian snapped. “You’re so open and vulnerable--stop it!” 

Harry gaped at her. Snape watched quietly, apparently intrigued. “Can you...I mean, did you see my-”

“I felt them, really. You're letting your hate and confusion cloud your mind, which is exactly what a Legilimens would use against you.” She turned to Snape. “He hasn't a shred of defense, and you using the actual spell on him is nothing short of cruel, sir.” 

“You’re doing it to him as we speak, Ms. Kowalski,” he said softly. 

“Well that's my problem,” said Lian curtly, folding her arms. “That's what I'm here to prevent.” 

Snape sighed heavily. “A demonstration then, for Potter’s edification.” He pointed his wand at her instead, and Lian steadied herself. “Watch closely, Potter. I am about to attempt to break into her mind. It is her job to resist; not unlike refusing to be influenced by the Imperius curse.” he said softly, and Lian could sense his focus coiling up. “ _ Legilimens!” _

She felt as though her mind was being sliced open.  _ She was five years old, crying because her parents had brought home another baby, Jake seated beside her in tears because she’d smashed his toy broom.   _

_ She was all dressed up, clinging to her father's hand as he took her on the No-Maj bus for the first time. She didn't want to go to Kindergarten, she tried sneaking away three times, until her father held her so tightly she didn't dare let go.  _

_ She was six, staring up at Babcia as she spoke to her without saying a word. She was on Dziadek’s knee while they explained what she was, what she would someday be able to do… _

_ Stay calm. Think of a pool of water--so still and quiet that you can see your reflection. You can't see past the water, only the mirrored image held there. You only see what the pool wants you to see.  _

Lian came back to herself. She hadn't kept Snape out but she had steered him to the memory she needed to gather her strength. She'd fallen to her knees at some point, and she took Harry's hand to help pull herself back to her feet. “How much of that did you see?” 

“Your pattern of behavior remains consistent I see,” said Snape vaguely. “You did well for a start but you must try to keep me from seeing anything. Now then, Potter, you next.” 

“But-” 

Harry didn't get much further before Snape cried, “ _ Legilimens! _ ”

It wasn’t as much fun watching someone get invaded as it was to be on the receiving end. Harry screamed a lot, but after a few minutes struggle, he uttered, “ _ Aculeus! _ ” A spark flew out of his wand and hit Snape’s wrist. Snape lifted the spell and Harry collapsed to the floor, where one of his knees crashed into the desk.  _ He’ll feel that in the morning. _

Harry looked around, dazed. Snape tended to the angry weal that had appeared where Harry had hit him.  “Did you mean to produce a Stinging Hex?” asked Snape coolly.

“No,” said Harry bitterly, getting up from the floor.

“I thought not,” said Snape, watching him closely. “You let me get in too far. You lost control.”

“Did you see everything I saw?” Harry asked.

“Flashes of it,” said Snape, his lip curling. “To whom did the dog belong?”

“My Aunt Marge,” Harry muttered, and Lian felt his hatred for Snape grow. Again, she decided to intervene.

“Well, it wasn’t a total disaster,” she said fairly. “You did stop him eventually, but you lost focus.”

“Precisely,” Lian had not expected Professor Snape to agree with her but felt heartened by it all the same. “You stopped me using a spell, but the object of Occlumency is to repel me with your brain. Your wand will be useless while you are unconscious.”

“I’m trying,” said Harry angrily, “but you’re not telling me how!”

“Manners, Potter,” said Snape dangerously. “Now, I want you to close your eyes. You too, Ms. Kowalski.”

Lian closed her eyes immediately. Even if Snape was as bad as Harry made him out to be in his mind, she was confident that she could take him, if not mentally, physically. 

“Clear your mind, both of you,” said Snape’s voice. “Let go of all emotion…” Lian tried. She tried to be like a calm pool, like her Babcia had always told her, but it was difficult with Harry’s mind buzzing angrily beside her. “You’re not doing it, Potter. . . You will need more discipline than this. . . Focus, now. . .” Lian sensed Harry’s mind attempting to relax, but his anger at Snape was making it difficult. “Ms. Kowalski, leave Potter’s mind to me, please.” Snape muttered, and she felt the blood rush into her face out of embarrassment. 

The lesson began to fall apart at that point. Snape would alternate between encouraging Lian to block out Harry’s mind, and scold Harry for failing to keep the pair of them out. Harry’s anger only increased as the time wore on, and Snape’s cold indifference was not a great help. Lian soon realized that if Harry was to improve, it would be outside of the office and not within it.  _ That’s where he needs my help; not in here. This is just ugly.  _ When seven o’clock finally came, Harry left in a storm of a temper, but Lian asked Professor Snape for permission to remain.

“I just want to practice in the quiet--I won’t get that in my dormitory,” she explained earnestly. Snape gave a grunt of approval, turning to the stone basin on his desk. From it he began extracting strands of a weird, silvery substance and bringing them to his temple.   _ Memories. _ She realized, before closing her eyes and trying to clear her mind. It was much easier now that Harry was gone, and she couldn’t penetrate Snape’s mind even if she wanted. There was something itching at her memory though, something she felt the need to ask.

“What is it, Ms. Kowalski?” asked Snape quietly.

Lian kept her eyes closed as she spoke. “It’s just something I noticed, sir, while Potter was here.”

“Hm,” Snape grumbled. 

“Sorry, but I was just wondering...you insist that he addresses you correctly. As you should, sir, you’re his teacher. But I find it curious that you address him in such a casual manner, given your station as such. I can address him as ‘Potter’ because he’s a classmate and we’re equal in many respects. Same as I call my Quidditch captain ‘Montague’.”

“The point, Ms. Kowalski?” asked Snape, his voice tight.

“That’s just it sir.” Lian said softly. “All the teachers call me by the title of ‘Ms.’, just as they call Malfoy by the title of ‘Mr.’. I just wonder why you speak to Harry Potter as though he were an equal, or someone you went to school with…” she trailed off, feeling as though she’d stepped off a cliff. She peeked through her eyelids in case he was going to jinx her.

Snape inhaled deeply through his nostrils. “I think that’s enough for tonight. Head back to the common room, Ms. Kowalski.” his voice, like ice, was enough to chase her from the room without another word.


	24. Need to Let it Go

The following morning at breakfast presented itself with a bit of a conundrum. It started with an abandoned copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ lying on the Slytherin table. Lian was halfway through her oatmeal when she actually paid attention to the large picture that basically made the entire front page. Actually it was ten pictures, displaying nine wizards and a witch. Each was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to the wizard prison, Azkaban. 

Lian read names like Antonin Dolohov, who had murdered the Prewett twins; Augustus Rookwood, who looked bored; but perhaps the most haunting image of all ten was the witch. She glared at Lian’s oatmeal like it had something to do with her arrest, arrogant expression made striking by her hooded eyes. She might have been beautiful, in a snobby kind of way, before she’d rotted away in her cell. The name read Bellatrix Lestrange, and she’d been convicted for torturing and incapacitating Frank and Alice Longbottom. 

Lian glanced across the hall at Neville before turning back to the paper. The headline read: 

**MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN**

**MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS “RALLYING POINT”**

**FOR OLD DEATH EATERS**

_ Black? Sirius? The guy trapped in his mother’s house? Yeah, I forgot he said he was heading out to the North Sea to pick up a few psychos and then pop over to the grocery store for some milk. _ She opened the paper and proceeded to read about the escaped prisoners, tutting to herself.  _ This is why you don’t put murderers and dark wizards in prison. _ She thought sagely, thinking about MACUSA’s way of handling criminals. Even if it was a bit harsh, it wasn’t as stupid as putting all the dangerous wizards and witches in one place. 

A quick glance around the hall told her that not many students read the paper, obviously way more concerned with their homework and friends. The staff table, however, was an entirely different story. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were speaking to one another with serious expressions on their faces; while the herbologist, Professor Sprout, had her spoon on pause halfway to her mouth as she read the article. Lian could see bits of porridge dripping off the flatware and fall into the teacher’s lap. 

Down the table, she spotted Pansy and Daphne arguing over a piece of parchment. Beside them, Millie was arm wrestling with Goyle because she could. Crabbe and Malfoy were talking with (her lungs forgot how to function for a moment) Nott and Zabini, their heads huddled together like a No-Maj football team. Her mind buzzed slightly as she watched the others in her year. It was an unspoken thing, but Lian never needed them to say it at all: even without poking around in their minds--she  _ knew _ . This particular article was not something she could bring up with her housemates. 

She folded her newspaper and shoved it in her bag, before heading early to Transfiguration. As she passed the tables towards  the doors, she had the distinct impression that a few pairs of eyes were trained on her. 

 

Transfiguration and Herbology slipped through her fingers like water, and she was so distracted by the time the lunch hour began  she didn’t even notice that someone was trying to get her attention. Only when a hand came under her nose and clicked its fingers at her did she look around.

“What,” she snapped; then, realizing who the hand belonged to, said, “Sorry.”

Theo shook his head. “I need to tell you something.” They fell back from the rest of their class as they made the trek back up to the castle. “We haven’t talked since...you know, detention.” he began after a pause.

“Where you demanded answers and I drank a truth serum to console you, I remember.” Lian quipped.

“I drank some too,” said Theo defensively. “But something about that night has bothered me.”

“You’re going to have to be a little more specific.”

“You didn’t ask me any questions.”

“I asked a few,” she replied feebly.

“You could’ve asked for my darkest secret and I’d at least have given you a hint but you didn’t.” he frowned sideways at her. “Your only purpose in that moment was to convince me of who you were...and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Sorry,” she repeated.

“Don’t be. I want to tell you something about me. Something no one else knows.” he took a deep breath as if steeling himself. Lian raised her hand in a placating gesture.

“You really don’t have to do that,” she began, but he shook his head.

“I enjoy Muggle music.” he said stiffly. Lian’s head whipped around to face him so quickly she cricked her neck. 

“What kind?” 

“I- that’s it?” he asked incredulously.

“This is important: what kind?” she pressed, actually preventing him from walking into the castle until he answered.

“Just a few…” he mumbled, his neck flushing with color.

“Like??” Lian demanded.

“Derndernaks.” he grumbled through his teeth.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Duran Duran and the Kinks.” he wouldn’t meet her eyes now. 

Schooling her face into a neutral expression, knowing she mustn't laughs because the admission was a big deal to him, Lian took a moment to breathe. 

“Well...at least you didn't say the Bee Gee’s.”

Theo looked thoughtful. “Actually-” Lian placed her index finger to his lips. 

“Don't ruin it.” 

They spent their lunch hour seated apart from the rest, swapping band names and songs. Lian was determined that he should listen to ‘real music’ as soon as possible, but he was very defensive about the ones he liked. She was in the process of describing AC/DC’s greatest hits when someone coughed behind her. Looking around and up she saw Warrington standing over her, giving her an odd smile. 

“Hi,” she said awkwardly. 

“Hi. Are you feeling better? I heard you’d been in St. Mungo’s over the break.” Warrington almost sounded concerned. 

“Yeah, I’m fine now, thanks.” she answered briskly. She was avoiding addressing him by name on purpose, only she didn’t know how long she could keep it up. “Did you want something?”

“Well,” Warrington glanced at Theo momentarily before continuing. “Actually, yes, there was something I wanted to ask. Can we talk in private?”

_ Over my dead- _ “I’ve got class in a bit, so if you could just be quick and say whatever it is right now, I would prefer it.”  _ Just get it over with. _

“Alright then. Will you come to Hogsmeade with me next month?” his voice was steady but his emotions were almost too much for her to bear.  _ Clear your mind...clear his mind, more like, gracious. _

Lian pretended to politely consider his offer. Then she turned to nudge Theo. “What day is the Hogsmeade trip?”

“Saturday?”

“I mean the date.”

“The 14th of February.” Even as he said it, Lian felt slightly nauseous. 

“Ah.” She turned back to face Warrington, now fully aware of the situation, not that it made a difference.  “No.”

Warrington stiffened, apparently not anticipating a swift rejection. “Sorry?”

Lian shrugged. “You heard me. Thanks, but no. See you at practice.” She stood up, swung her bag over her shoulder and left the great hall. Believing the footsteps pounding in her wake to be Warrington’s, she was a bit surprised to find that it was Theo. He didn’t say anything as he caught up with her, but Lian detected the trace of a grin on his face. Wrapping her scarf around her neck and tying it, she led the way out into the snow, headed towards Care of Magical Creatures.

Umbridge was there, as usual. She’d taken to lurking around both Hagrid’s and Trelawney’s classes, causing many of the Slytherins to place bets on who’d get fired first. Lian had spotted Adrian Pucey  collecting bids the night before. Personally, she tried to avoid any form of contact with the toady woman, in or out of classes. She’d received three ministry letters over the holidays and was due for a report by the end of the week. Even as she focused as much as possible on Hagrid’s feeble lesson, (he’d brought in a Crup, which was basically a Jack-Russell Terrier with a forked tail,and it tried to bite Hermione and Dean,) she could feel Umbridge’s beady little eyes making scorch marks into the side of her face. 

“Why is she glaring at you?” Daphne whispered under the pretense of petting the Crup. “She’s not even criticizing Hagrid. What did you do?”

“I’m sure the way I ate my breakfast isn’t in line with Educational Decree number twenty-six.” Lian replied loftily. “She’ll get over it.”

Daphne covered her mouth with her hand, tactfully covering her amused grin. Pansy made her way over to where they stood, completely ignoring whatever Hagrid was saying. “Lian, what did Cassius want with you earlier? I saw him after you left the table and he did not look happy.”

Lian had to think for a moment before remembering that ‘Cassius’ was Warrington’s name. “Oh that...nothing worth mentioning.”

“I disagree,” said Pansy haughtily. “Cough up or I’ll interrogate Nott.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Did he ask you out?” piped up Daphne, and Lian gave her a sharp look, hating that Pansy starting slapping her arm in excitement. “What? He asked me if you had a boyfriend before the holidays--but then of course you had your accident. What did you say?”

Lian shook her head. In the middle of her favorite subject, under the demon’s eye surrounded by classmates was not the time to be discussing this topic. “I am not having this discussion right now.”

“She shot him down,” Theo whispered out of the side of his mouth. “It was brilliant.”

“Why?” Pansy demanded. “He’s quite handsome.”

“Do not make me repeat myself!” Lian snapped, moving away from their huddle and closer to Hagrid, who was explaining why Crups usually got their tails removed at an early age. He kept glancing at Umbridge, who had her clipboard out again.

 

Lian continued to successfully dodge Pansy and Daphne’s desire for ‘girl talk’ until dinner, where she planted herself between Goyle and Urquhart on the bench. Goyle shot her an ugly, yet confused look, while Urquhart merely handed her the pumpkin juice. She could feel Daphne and Pansy leering at her a few seats down, and for once they completely ignored Malfoy. She could hear him droning on but he paused after ten minutes to say, “Are you even listening to me?”

Crabbe and Millie grunted to signify that they were, and Goyle was a little late in doing the same. 

“Pansy, what are you looking at?” Malfoy tried to follow Pansy’s line of sight but Lian sat back in an effort to remain ignored. “Urquhart?”

Urquhart glanced around at the group, one eyebrow raised, his mouth full of steak and kidney pie.  _ My hero, _ thought Lian dully. The dining hour passed in relative contentment, but when she tried to leave the great hall, is when the girls struck. They fired Millie at her, who threw an arm around her shoulders and practically frog-marched her from the hall. Lian spotted Lee Jordan walking up the marble staircase, nursing his hand from a kind of injury on the back. For a moment she saw into his mind, saw his memories of detention with Umbridge, of being handed a strange black quill…

“Alright then,” said Millie  in a businesslike manner, steering her towards an unused classroom, Daphne and Pansy in their wake. “Let’s have out with it.”

“You guys, it’s not a big deal-” Lian tried to say, but Pansy overrode her.

“Not a big deal my foot! Tell us what happened with Cassius, and don’t leave anything out!” they’d found a classroom that looked like it hadn’t been used for teaching in a decade. Millie pushed Lian into a chair, while Pansy and Daphne hopped onto the desks, grinning down at her. “Start at the beginning!”

“Lunch?” said Lian in confusion.

“No--when he first started liking you,” said Daphne. “Was it during Quidditch practice? Tori told me he watches you fly more than anything.”

“I don’t know when it started, I only know when I got a heads-up.”

“Which was?” prompted Millie.

“. . .November. . . after the match,” she answered reluctantly.

“And then?”

“And then nothing. Outside of practice he didn’t talk to me, and I didn’t really care if he did. He asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him at the tail end of lunch, and I told him no. That’s it.”

“But why did you say no?” asked Daphne, her blue eyes wider than usual. 

“Why would I agree?” countered Lian, folding her arms over her chest. “And don’t say because he’s handsome.”

“Well. . . he’s a good student, you're a good student. . . Most of the time,” supplied Millie after a pause. “He likes Quidditch, you like Quidditch; matches up nicely. . . No pun intended.”

“Ha ha. Can I go now?” Lian made to stand up but she was pushed back into the chair by three sets of hands. “What now?” 

“Is there someone else you like, then?” Pansy asked, her eyes glinting. 

“I like most people. My rejecting Warrington doesn't mean I don't like him--I just don't want to spend Valentine's Day with him.”

“That's not what she asked,” said Daphne, leaning forward in a conspiratorial way. “Come on…”

Lian recognized their behavior, having witnessed it a few times before. They wouldn't let her go unless she supplied a satisfactory or scandalous answer. But she wasn’t ready to give in to their pressure. “I don't want to talk about this anymore. This isn't a friendly chat this is nearly an interrogation.” She stood abruptly and moved before Millie could force her back into the chair. “I’ll be doing homework in the common room; goodnight.” 

As she crossed the desks and moved to the door, she picked up on Daphne’s whisper. “She doesn’t have anymore homework, I watched her finish it during Umbridge’s class.” Which was true, just like it was also true that she wasn’t going back to the common room. Her feet seemed to move on their own, up the staircase, across the entrance hall, up the magically moving stairs several floors until she arrived on the seventh floor. Without so much as a glance at the tapestry, she began to pace up and down the corridor until the elusive door appeared, which she immediately wrenched open and thrust herself inside. 

The Room of Requirement had turned itself into a sort of frosted forest. It was rather like stepping into a book written by C.S. Lewis. The snow even crunched beneath her feet as she moved forward, her breath coming out in puffs of air. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lian recognized that she was being overdramatic, her sudden rush of anger and emotion could be swallowed if she took the time to try; but instead she chose to take everything that had happened in her life and scream. The noise bounced off the snow and around the nearest trees, but it wasn’t nearly enough to sate her. 

She thought about Umbridge, blackmailing her. She thought about the self-righteous Slytherins, snubbing her because she had a No-Maj in her bloodline.  _ What would they say if they knew about my father? Not that it’s any of their business. _ She remembered the disdainful looks she’d received from other students, just because of the crest over her heart. She thought about how no one bothered to understand or even know her. She thought about Warrington, and his absurd invitation.  _ Like I have nothing better to do with my time!  _  about the mischievous looks on her roommates faces when they finally had something with which to tease her.  _ I don’t have time for stupid boys and gossip--I have so much more to do with my life! _ She remembered how Snape and Harry had argued last night, how much hate they had for one another.  _ Get over yourselves! _

She couldn’t handle it all, and she was not able to scream loudly enough. She transformed easily, charging into the trees, which seemed to be endless. There had to be a spell or something that was actually making it seem like she was running straight when really she was running in circles. She paused a moment, tossed back her head and roared at the dark ceiling, which was masquerading as the night sky. Then, she kept on running. 

Lian only stopped because one of her paws slid on a sheet of ice. The trees spread out around it, but she found herself staring down at her reflection. The beast stared back up at her, it’s sides barely heaving from the sprint. She remembered learning how to do this, transform, from Professor Kamau. She’d started Self-Transfiguration in her first year, as Professors Kamau and Fontaine shared the belief that being able to change her shape would shut off her Legilimens, freeing her for a time. The idea was good, the dream was real, and yet, as Lian glared at the beast reflected in the ice, she remembered how horribly wrong they had been. Her inherited gift seemed intent on consuming her, no matter what form she took. 

_ Why couldn’t I have been something cute, like a bunny? _ She thought miserably. Taking one of her huge paws, she raked her claws through the ice, distorting her image altogether.

 


	25. Transform

_ Feb. 14th, 1996 _

_ Dear JJ, _

 

_ February is the worst month of the year, not that January was much better. Occlumency had a bumpy beginning, and I started arranging times with Harry outside of the lessons to help him calm down. It hasn't helped me much, though, but at least I could tell him whether or not his mind was clear. I think it's helped. That's the bright side. I wasn't back two days before it went downhill. You remember I told you I made the House Quidditch team? What I didn't tell you is one of the other Chasers on the team ‘took a shine’ to me a few months ago. He asked me then to go on a date with him today. I said no. But apparently it didn’t quite sink in all the way, because a few days later someone spiked my Yorkshire pudding with guess what?  _

_ Love potion. I didn’t know this, of course, though everyone at the Slytherin table that day insists that I did. I was arguing with Crabbe, something I did not think he was capable of doing, having a smaller brain capacity and all, but I caught him cheating off my Transfiguration homework during study hall and burned his parchment and quill as punishment. He was still growling about how he was innocent, (a likely story,) and I got fed up with having to listen to him down the table so I picked up the nearest item of food and chucked it over at him. It bounced off of his wide forehead and he looked surprised, but not as much as Warrington (the shiner) when Goyle picked it up and swallowed it whole. The stuff was really strong, as the next moment, Goyle was chasing Warrington out of the great hall, singing ballads and quoting Christina Rossetti at the top of his volume.  _

 

_ “...I loved and guessed at you, you construed me  _

_ And loved me for what might or might not be –  _

_ Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong…” _

 

_ Needless to say, it was pretty obvious what had happened. While I sat there feeling insulted and slightly violated, Theo and Pansy were crying they were laughing so hard. He (the shiner) tried to make up for it by sending a little less extreme but just as purposeful methods; I woke up one morning and the entire dorm was filled with flowers addressed to me from him, and a small flock of haggard looking owls. I transfigured the bouquets  all into owl treats which made the poor birds feel a bit better. I received an entire box of chocolate, which I gave to Daphne who gave it to Pansy who gave it to Malfoy who gave it to Zabini who then gave it to Crabbe who gave it to Goyle  who vomited. The first week of February I got a love letter, which might have been okay if it didn’t follow me everywhere and read itself aloud. I have never been so grateful for Mom’s origami spell in my life.  _

_ But the last straw was this: I don’t know how--I was convinced they weren’t sold in the UK, but somehow, Warrington got a hold of a Belter. I wouldn’t lie to you Jake, this all happened yesterday at dinner. Why dinner? Maybe he was hoping I’d cave and snog him in the library.  _

_ So, over steak and potatoes, I’m debating the unidentified element in the transformation formula  with Montague and a few other seventh years. None of them studied Alchemy so I had the extra edge and was just starting to bring them over to my way of thinking when it happened. _

_ A dove, a freaking white dove descends from on high, clutching a large blue envelope.  It drops the letter, unsealed, and the moment it hits the table the whole room is subject to “Friday I’m in Love” by The Cure. I waited it out and then returned to my debate as though it hadn’t happened at all. He tried to talk to me afterwards but I got away. I’m good at that, as you well know.  _

_ Enough about me and my messes. How are your studies coming along? What’s Auntie May teaching in Alchemy right now? Did you have any particularly annoying troubles this February? _

_ Are you safe?  _

_ Are you happy?  _

_ Don’t worry about me. I’ve got plans for payback today, so I’ll write updates with that issue in my next letter.  _

_ Love, _

_ Jules _

 

_ P.S. I need a favor. I want you to find my Bon Jovi collection and send an appropriate message to my poor unfortunate Shiner, you know, the one who gave love a bad name.  _

  
  


_ 02.20.96 _

_ Dear Jules, _

 

_ I don’t know when this will reach you, but I got your letter last night and I stayed up for hours laughing. Hope you don’t mind but Jason stole it from me this morning and shared it with the group. He was ready to come over there pronto and bang some heads together, and the line started behind him. Your ‘adopted brothers’ failed to see the hilarity of the situation, but I managed to calm them down somewhat. Still, I promised them some space at the bottom of the parchment so look forward to that. Also, your favor should arrive right around the same time as this letter, depending on if the osprey’s like to race or not.  _

_ I could have told you someone would’ve gone for you. I'm sorry it turned out to be such an unpleasant but funny affair. And hey, Friday I'm in Love isn't that bad of a choice. He could’ve picked something from Frank Sinatra, a noble wizard in his own right.  _

_ In Kamau’s class the other day he was talking about the balance between animal and man, as an Animagus. He said that the wizards who neglected their animal counterpart are equal to those people you hear about who inflict self-harm. I thought about you the entire hour, and all through the rigorous homework, then I chased my tail and gave myself a treat. I'm a good boy, after all.  _

_ You forget I know the real reason you pushed so hard to transfer after your fifth year, even under the harsh conditions you were given. You need to accept your other half, Jules, it is a part of who you are. Try to transform more often. Trust yourself. I wish I was there to wreck havoc with you, paw in paw, but until I can be you need to help yourself.  _

_ Stop calling it a beast, for one. It's a magnificent creature, or as Uncle Newt would say: Fantastic.  _

_ Right. I think that's it for me. No funny business with any girls for me, not yet anyway. Here’s the boys: _

 

_ Julianne, it's Matt. Kick that guy Warrington on my behalf or I'll come and do it for you.  _

 

_ Julie-Q, I woulda made the trip myself but I had a date that weekend. I don't think you should resort to violence--I think the favor you asked of Jake was the perfect solution. I hope you're there when it lands. Scott's kicking me of-- _

 

_ Jason writes too slow. Lian, if that shiner harasses you anymore, just use the back-up plan. I gave it to you for a reason; and some prissy boy like him’ll never see it coming.  _

 

_ Lian, _

_ What they said. Also; How you doin? _

_ Anders  _

 

_ Okay. That's everyone for now. We miss you, sis. Write soon! _

_ Love, _

_ Jake  _

 

_ Feb 28th, 1996 _

_ Dear JJ (and everyone, apparently), _

 

_ This school wasn't ready for West Side Story--they DEFINITELY were unprepared for Shot Through The Heart, but it was brilliant! The moment it started nearly everyone within a ten foot radius clamped their hands over their ears because it was so loud. Zabini claims he still can’t hear a thing on his right sight, and that’s not even the good part. I picked out a few No-Maj borns from the other tables because they were mouthing the words, as I was, and even the headmaster was nodding his head to the rhythm. As for the Shiner, he looked absolutely horrified, had no idea what to do or what was even happening until the last chorus line-up, at which point I was tempted to hop onto the table and pantomime. But I didn’t want detention again. _

_ Maybe next time. _

_ Thanks to everyone for their thoughts, but this next bit I address completely to Jake so beat it! _

 

_ Jake, thank you for your concern. But you don’t get it. When you transform you’re a dog. Who doesn’t like dogs? Did you forget the way people used to look at me when I transformed? And I have...by the way...since coming to Hogwarts...a few times. Once when Jason was up here, another time when I wanted to go into the Forbidden Forest undetected--I got chased and shot at by a herd of centaurs and almost eaten by a giant. Then again in January when I was feeling particularly enraged. Each time I do it, the more I feel the pull to do it more. My ability is so much more activated in that state, it scares me. I feel like I could speak if I let myself. But I doubt anyone here knows what I am supposed to be, but they don’t need to know to be scared of me. One look is all it would take.  _

_ So again, thank you for worrying about me. But there’s not much I can do.  _

_ I’ve got to run, or I’ll be late to Astronomy.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Jules _

 

Folding the letter, shoving it into an envelope and sending the osprey out the window, Lian sprinted for the spiral staircase that would lead to the top of the tower. Everyone else had already ascended by the time she reached the top, her housemates and the Hufflepuffs. Zacharias Smith gave her a sneer worthy of Malfoy as she passed him--she’d successfully cast Ginny Weasley’s bat-bogey hex on him last DA meeting--and Hannah Abbott gave her a knowing wink--likely for the same reason.

Professor Sinistra cleared her throat to gather their attention. “Settle down boys and girls, tonight we shall be studying Jupiter’s moons. Remember to write down your observations down in your notes, there will be an essay due on Europa by next week!”

Everyone moved to their telescopes, Lian stood between Pansy and Daphne, who’d been having a fight for the better part of the month. Somehow, she’d been tasked with the job of being the bridge, and she did not like it much.

As Daphne adjusted her instrument, she glanced up at Lian as she sniffed quietly. “Are you alright?” she whispered. Lian nodded once, a small tear betraying her as it slid down her cheek. “Oh please,” Daphne fished a handkerchief out of her bag and thrust it at her. “There’ll be none of that here, no Slytherin girl has ever fallen to pieces in public and you won't be the weak link. Come on now, study Europa and imagine hexing whatever hurt you in the fanny.”

Lian wiped her eyes, took a steadying breath and did as Daphne instructed.  _ She’s right. Feeling sorry for yourself never helped anyone. _

 

Two hours later, they were all exhausted and ready to collapse in bed, but at the bottom of the spiral staircase, Professor McGonagall was waiting, clutching a large file filled with paperwork in her hands. “Ms. Kowalski, I need you to come with me.”

Lian’s eyes flew to the stack of paper, her brain trying to remember what kind of misdeed she could’ve possibly done in the last two months to cause this. After a moment of reflection she still came up empty, but nevertheless she found herself trodding along in McGonagall’s wake. “Professor, am I in trouble?”  _ Maybe Warrington complained or something. _

“No,” replied Professor McGonagall curtly. Once they were in her office, she set the file down upon her desk with a loud thud. “Do you understand what this is, Ms. Kowalski?”

Lian eyed the file once again, but shook her head. “No, Professor.”

“This is your school record, comprised of your history in Ilvermorny, and now also Hogwarts.” McGonagall explained. “Now then, I understand-”

“Are you expelling me?” Lian interrupted, her heart pounding.  _ It finally happened. Where am I supposed to go now? _

“No, Ms. Kowalski.” McGonagall took a deep breath. “My seventh year class will be undergoing a series of puzzles to test and determine their preparation for their NEWTs, and among those puzzles will be one focusing on self-transfiguration.”

Lian’s heart came to a sudden halt, and she forgot how to breathe. 

“Now, my students have all seen my transformation, so it will not be as much of a challenge. I was trying to locate another animagus to aid me when Professor Dumbledore mentioned something astounding the other day. He told me you’d set fire to part of Ilvermorny castle in your third year and the details were here in your file. I did not find any mention of such a horrendous act, but do you know what I did find, Ms. Kowalski?”

Lian’s mouth was drier than the Sahara desert, so she was unable to form a response. McGonagall opened the large file and pointed to a grade sheet for Lian’s Self-Transfiguration Class back at Ilvermorny. “Top marks. At age 14 you were able to become a full Animagus under the tutelage of one Kamau, who graduated the top of his class at Uagadou in 1978. Is this true?”

Lian gulped, knowing there was no lie that would get her out of this one. “Yes.”

“Excellent. Then I require your assistance with my seventh years starting on Monday. I believe you can afford to miss Divination, don’t you?”

  
  


“You claim to listen strictly to British musicians, and yet you just told me you recognize Bon Jovi,” said Lian smugly. 

“And?” replied Theo, shrugging. 

“They’re from New Jersey.”

“They’re Bon Jovi. Who cares where they’re from--they didn’t ask to be born in Seville.”

Lian clicked her tongue at him. “That’s Sayreville, and I’m only saying that you kind of lied. Next you’ll be telling me you like Dolly Parton.”

Theo squinted across the black lake, his eyebrows coming together in confusion. “Who?”

“Oh thank heaven you don’t know. I was about to be really worried,” she said in relief. The Sunday afternoon had decided to be warm, and they seized the chance to escape to the grounds and soak it in before the sun went to hide behind the perpetual cloud cover again. The first two months of the year had been miserable, but the second of March was proving to be quite nice. Lian envisioned herself swimming in the lake before long. She used to swim in the lakes around Ilvermorny all the time.

“Mm.” Theo made a grunt of a noise, and she leaned forward to give him a curious look. 

“What?” 

“Friday night I was so dead I couldn't be bothered with it,” he began slowly. 

“With what?”

“What did McGonagall want with you?”

Lian groaned. “I was voluntold into assisting her class tomorrow.”

“Huh?” Theo grunted. “That's a thing? Which class?”

“Her seventh years.”

“Really? What are they gonna do? Turn you into a toad?” He chuckled at his own joke, but stopped at the pained look on her face. “Wait, seriously?”

“I don't think so,” said Lian, biting her lip. “But I almost wish they would.” 

“Well, what did McGonagall say?” Theo asked, his voice steady but she could feel his curiosity like a fire within. She thought about lying to him. She thought about pulling a detailed fabrication over his head just so she could run for just a bit longer. But even as she considered it, he cleared his throat. “Don’t lie to me, Kowalski.” 

_ Right, because he’s had since September to figure out my tells.  _ Pansy had warned her early on that Theo plays a game of truth and lies in his head. He observes people for a time and when he figures them out he moves on to the next target. Rather than shy away from him, she’d decided that she appreciated that quality in an ally, bringing him closer instead. Now though, Lian knew she was paying for that decision. She hadn’t been able to tell him a fib in months, so she usually didn’t answer. But this time was different. This time she had Jake’s words dancing in her head.  _ Trust yourself. . .You need to help you. . .  _

“No one at this school knows...other than apparently a select few teachers. I doubt Umbridge knows, so there’s that...but I haven’t told another student. There just wasn’t a reason to say anything…” she was stalling and they both knew it. “Here’s the thing...I’m really good at Transfiguration. I always have been--even my wand core prefers Transfiguration magic above all else--”  _ Like the good old days when it wouldn’t listen to me until I started taking two Transfiguration classes to balance it out.  _

“What does you being a Transfig-prodigy have to do with McGonagall and her seventh years?” Theo spoke when she hesitated further. “Whatever you’re hiding it can’t be worse than what you told me in Snape’s office.”

“That would depend on who you ask,” she quipped. “She’s going to test their ability to discern the natural from the Transfigured on sight. Everyone knows McGonagall’s an Animagus though, so it wouldn’t be difficult if she was the subject.” She stopped, waiting for him to work it out. He gazed back at her expectantly, and then clicked. Lian could actually see the moment the proverbial lightbulb switched on over his head as his eyes dawned with an idea. An impossible, but brilliant notion.

“You’ll be the subject. They’ll have to figure out which one is you,” he said slowly, watching her in disbelief. “Can you do it right now?”

Lian laughed. “I can do it whenever I please, but I’d rather not in broad daylight. What if someone in her class saw me--that’d ruin the whole point.”

“Right. Of course.” Suddenly Theo was on his feet, dragging her around the edge of the lake to a more secluded area. “What about now?”

Looking around at the trees and trying to guess how many people would be hanging out in the North tower around this time on a Sunday, she shrugged. “Maybe.” She backed up into the shadow of the forest. “This might be better.”

Theo stopped just on the edge of the treeline. “I’m not going in there for all the power in the world.”

“Then I guess you’ll never know,” she replied, smirking as she dodged behind a large tree trunk.Her heart was thumping in her rib cage, the beast inside stalking impatiently. It wanted to run, it wanted to climb, it wanted to jump into the lake and catch the giant squid.  _ Easy there. _ Lian took a deep breath, exhaled slowly until she felt the most in control.  _ Am I really going to do this? _

She took a few steps on two legs, then dropped down onto a few more. The first inhale as her animal form was full of the scents of all the creatures that lived in the Forbidden Forest, and upwind of her was the scent of a nervous boy, who was still hovering near the treeline in complete anticipation. The beast had half a mind to leave him there, seize the chance to go for a run through an actual forest again, but Lian knew better. She’d never hear the end of it if she just abandoned him. 

“Kowalski?” she geared her ears in his direction as the call came, and, feeling impish, she lept into the large tree, slightly concealing herself in the thick branches. “Have you done it yet?” Another pause, then, “I'm not going in there, and this whole intrigue thing will not work on me!”

Lian peered through the tree limbs over at the bank where her ally was waiting. She watched him squint into the woods for another five minutes before he began to slowly edge his way through the shadows. “Kowalski, this isn't funny, where are you?” He called. “If you don't want to show me it's fine just come back!”

She waited until he was right beside the tree she was perched in.  _ Here goes nothing.  _ She walked the length of the branch, and then dropped to the dirt floor, instantly circling around to face Theo, her body adopting a defensive stance. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as her yellow eyes met his piercing blue. “...Kowalski?” 

The beast wanted to growl, but Lian forced herself to relax, raising herself up to face him calmly. Theo reached out a hand as if to pet her head.  _ Oh I don't think so! _ She lifted herself up onto her hind legs gazing down at him challengingly. 

“Whoa…” Theo whispered. “What are you?” 

Lian bowed her head and shifted back into a witch. Theo looked more amazed by this than he had been with her Animagus form. “Were you scared?”

Theo hesitated. “Terrified. But then I recognized you, and it didn't matter anymore.”

Lian tilted her head. “How?”

“I've taken Care of Magical Creatures for three years now. No animal has ever looked at me the way you just did.” He answered with a small grin, which she copied after a moment of indignation. 

“You don't think it'll be terribly obvious, though?” She asked, gesturing at herself. 

“No, I don't think anyone will guess that it's you.” He said with a note of finality. “I’d even bet money.”

“How much?” She scoffed. 

“Ten galleons.”

“Make it twenty and you're on.” 

  
  


Lian was impressed with McGonagall’s setup. It was five minutes to the end of lunch on Monday and she’d been summoned to the Quidditch pitch where she was to transform and wait while the seventh years gathered outside the stands. Out on the field were a wide variety of creatures, both magical and not. This reassured Lian somewhat, as it was less likely anyone would single her out. There was a fox, a chestnut hippogriff, a black cat, a deer, a grindylow, a toad and a hare. They were all either tethered or caged, and there was a tether waiting for Lian near the hippogriff. It glared at her as she approached, so she made eye contact and gave a low bow, being especially careful to not blink. The creature observed her for another moment before it bowed back. Moving forward she picked up the tether, wondering if she should transform first. The question was answered by Professor McGonagall, who marched towards her across the grass. 

“I'll take care of that for you, Ms. Kowalski.” She pulled out her wand and the tether flew out of Lian’s hands. “Go on, then.”

Lian nodded, shifting before the professor’s eyes, which grew wide as Theo’s had yesterday.  _ I bet the species wasn't in the record. _

McGonagall waved her wand and tethered Lian gently. “Wait here. I'll come for you when it's over. The rest of them have been enchanted so they won't get excited--so for this to work properly you need to be patient, to the brink of ignorance.”

Lian nodded once, folding her legs beneath her and adopting the sphinx position. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow but said nothing, merely turning away and walking back up the pitch. Once she was out of sight, Lian seized the opportunity to look around at the animals. The hippogriff was staring at her transfigured form in an almost appalled way, but the rest of them didn’t seem to mind, although the hare was making a special effort to remain on the far side of its cage. 

In another few minutes, Lian could detect footfalls approaching, coming to a halt just outside the field. She almost wished she had brought a snitch or something to play with, when she picked up McGonagall’s loud voice. “Settle down! Weasley, remove that stupid thing from your head or I shall confiscate it! Now then, if you have studied the material provided for you since day one, then this next part should come as a welcome challenge; if not, then a miserable failure. For this puzzle today, you will need the ability to recognize an Animagus from an ordinary animal. One by one, you shall enter the field and have two minutes to deduce the Animagus from the rest. Once you have left the field, you cannot change your answer, so be sure to put all your training to use.”

“Who’s the Animagus?” someone asked, who sounded suspiciously like Lee Jordan. Lian clenched her teeth, she had not told McGonagall that she didn’t want this to be widely spread.

“If I thought it was crucial to the test, Mr. Jordan, I would have mentioned it. However, I don’t think it an important detail, so I will not be disclosing it at this time. Line up!” Professor McGonagall barked. “In you go, then.”

The beast watched as Angelina Johnson entered the pitch, gazing around at the tethers and cages with such a keen eye, it was as though they were the perfect Quidditch strategy. It wanted to growl menacingly as she approached, but Lian remembered what McGonagall had told her, and forced herself to adopt a sleepy sort of manner. Underneath her lids however, the yellow eyes followed the black girl’s every single move. 

Johnson paused just out of Lian’s reach to just stare at her, brow furrowed, before moving on to the hippogriff. She didn’t make a note of anything until she reached the fox, and then wrote down her answer on a card, which she folded and stuffed into her pocket. After she was gone, a tall Ravenclaw boy who Lian recognized from the Quidditch pitch also came into the arena. He was followed by a few more Ravenclaws, then Lee Jordan, then one of the twins, and then none other than Cassius Warrington. He stalked across the grass boldly, as though he had nothing to fear from any of the animals there, but as he walked past her without a second look, she found neither she, nor the beast, could help herself. She roared loudly as he turned his back, and watched in amusement as he jumped about six feet in the air. He landed in a tangle of limbs and looked over at her in fear, but she was already lying on her side lazily.  _ Whoopsie. _

Warrington made his guess and high-tailed it out of the pitch as fast as his shaking legs would carry him. He was followed by the other twin, who was laughing quietly to himself. He made his way carefully to where Lian was and gave the beast an approving nod. She twitched her tail at him,  _ I know, I’m hilarious. _

The twin, she would have to guess Fred, froze, staring down at her. He then brought a hand to his head as though it was aching. “Was that you-?” he whispered, staring down at the beast. Lian kept her thoughts to herself, suddenly aware of them and how bad of an idea it was to have them. After a few seconds, Fred moved on to the hippogriff, bowing slowly to calm it down. Nearly everyone else had bowed to it, but after Warrington’s hasty exit, he looked quite miffed. 

The seventh year class was not terribly large, but after a half hour, everyone had crossed the pitch and guessed at the Animagus. Then, everyone was brought back to the pitch where McGonagall shooed them all into the stands. “You don’t want to be on the ground for the next bit. You all have your choices, now you will have the opportunity to observe the animal you selected and tell us why it must be an Animagus.” She waved her wand each animal in a cage was lifted into the air. The tethered ones remained put, but the hippogriff’s tether vanished, at which point he stretched and charged the length of the field, stretching his wings and attempting to take off-at which point his tether reappeared. Next the fox was free, but he just circled beneath the hare’s cage eagerly until the tether came to tie him down again. On and on it went, just for a few seconds, each animal acting as it naturally would. 

When the beast’s tether was gone, Lian got to her paws and stretched. And then she ran. Perks about her Animagus form--it was faster than a cheetah or, some Pukwudgie would say, a speeding arrow. She ran around the hippogriff, over the fox and the cat in a single bound, and charged the stands where the class was sitting. She gathered herself and lept into the air, claws unsheathed and fangs bared. 

McGonagalls wand whipped through the air, and the tether whipped her back to the grass. She landed on her back, flipped over quickly with a snarl. She lashed her tail and glared up at the Transfiguration teacher. 

“Present your arguments.” said Professor McGonagall calmly, as though nothing unusual had happened. The class was a different story. Montague had clutched Angelina Johnson’s shoulders in a moment of pure terror, and she now took the opportunity to tear herself away. 

Lian half listened, waiting for someone to guess it was her. She had twenty galleons riding on it, after all. Johnson guessed the toad, Jordan guessed the hare, one of the Ravenclaws guessed the hippogriff, Warrington guessed the fox, as did many others, absolutely no one guessed it was her. After McGonagall gave them all a stern look, it was apparent why. “Professor,” one of the Ravenclaw girls raised her hand, pointing at the beast. “What exactly is that thing?”

McGonagall gave a small sniff. “That is the Animagus. And that, Ms. Valston, is a Wampus Cat.”


	26. The Beneficial Friend

Occlumency with Professor Snape was improving, but she daren’t say the same case for Harry. He was fine when she worked with him, helping him to relax and everything, but when he had lessons with the potions teacher, it was a complete disaster. 

Back in March, Theo came to her one night after dinner and asked if he could come to a DA meeting. (“I mean, I’m technically a member, aren’t I?”) Apparently he was concerned about his Defense OWL, (he called Umbridge a few nasty names that she would never repeat in front of her mother,) and claimed he just wanted a place to practice his wand work. The first meeting she brought him to, they were working on Disillusionment charms. Fortunately, it was the one spell Theo hadn’t ever tried to cast before so there was a lot of work to be done. Fred and George took turns sending tripping spells his way until Lian replied with a jelly-leg jinx for George and Theo used  _ Alohomora  _ on Fred, which confused nearly everyone nearby until his robes popped open and his pants fell to the floor. Lian, George and Lee laughed the longest, and even Fred offered Theo a rueful smile, after he replaced his trousers. He was generally accepted after that, despite the article published a few weeks prior. 

Harry had agreed to do an interview with a journalist in February, and the Quibbler spread through the school like a disease, despite Umbridge’s best attempts to extinguish it. 

**Harry Potter Speaks Out At Last:**

**The Truth About He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named**

**And The Night I Saw Him Return**

A bit heavy of a title, but it got the job done. Lian was already quite familiar with everything he said in the interview, having seen it in his memories. The one thing it did manage to do was alienate quite a few of her Housemates (even more so) from the rest of the school. Harry had named all of the men who had appeared that night, who happened to have the same last name as a few Slytherins Lian knew. Many people believed him, many did not. Mostly, Harry managed to tick off a great number of people, but he was probably used to it by now. Theo’s father had been named, but he didn’t talk about it. Lian didn’t ask. 

Umbridge had fired Trelawney in March, but had failed in driving her out of the castle. Dumbledore put his foot down on that one, and also hired a centaur to replace her. Umbridge was livid, and it was only a matter of time before she struck again. 

As for McGonagall’s seventh year class, they never discovered that she was the Animagus they studied. The Transfiguration professor at least allowed her that courtesy. Unfortunately she could not stop the rumors that spread through the school like wild-fire. Given that very little was known about Wampus cats, however, (like they were native to the Appalachian mountains for instance,) no one had yet deduced who the Animagus could be. At present, the guess was one of the teachers.

April came with an eagerly awaited DA lesson; the Patronus Charm. As Lian and Theo arrived in the Room of Requirement, they were greeted by the sight of several early-comers already attempting the spell. Harry waved them inside and to the  corner where there was some space. 

“The key is to focus on the happiest memory you've got,” Harry explained, looking more at Theo than at Lian. “It should be fairly simple here because it's a bright room with no real threat other than Fred with a headless-hat; but we’ll worry about actual practice another time.”

“Meaning?” Theo said, raising an eyebrow as he withdrew his ash wand. 

“Well, I learned practicing against a boggart posing as a dementor, so-” Harry began, but Lian cut him off. 

“You mean your worst fear is the thing that makes you feel fear?” She clapped his arm jovially. “Nice.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “The incantation is  _ Expecto Patronum _ .” Theo gave it a go, but nothing happened. He frowned and tried again. Harry coughed. “Remember to focus on a happy memory.”

“Right.” Theo grumbled. 

Lian pointed her wand at the ceiling and thought,  _ Expecto Patronum! _ A few wisps of silver shot out the end, but they faded away at once. She frowned, closing her eyes to try and focus on a happy memory. 

_ Baking with Dad...flying with Rolf...dancing with Sera...singing with Jake...talking with Mom… _ her mind started to wander.  _ It's already April. I'm running out of time.  _ There arose a certain memory she couldn't shake from the forefront of her minds eye, even as she looked around at the others conjuring everything from wisps to fully fledged Patronuses. The lioness had summoned a silvery otter that was swimming through the air around her. There was a hyena over by the twins, and they were currently arguing over who had conjured it. 

Despite her own inability, she laughed. In her peripheral, she spotted something large and fuzzy and looked around just in time to watch the Patronus fade into thin air. Theo looked stunned, staring at where his patronus had been. “I made something...hold on.” He tried again but only a small cloud appeared. “Come on!”

Lian smiled, before continuing to try again and again. Nearly half an hour had passed before the misty substance took on a shape. At first she thought it was a Wampus and her heart stopped beating. The beast could never be associated with a happy thought, of this she was certain. But then she saw that it had only four legs, but before any other details could make themselves known, the charm faded once again. 

“Wow,” said Theo from behind her. “For a moment I thought it was going to be-”

“I know,” she said quickly. “Me too.” She laughed. “I'd heard tales that an Animagus form and a corporeal Patronus were one and the same but I guess not.” 

“Unless your form changed,” Theo grinned. “Why not check right now?”

She whacked his arm playfully. They became aware that the room had fallen silent, and looking around, they figured out why. 

A house elf was thrashing in Harry’s grip as it struggled to speak. Lian had never seen anything behave in such a violent, yet terrified manner. Harry was talking to it in a quiet, but urgent manner. Finally it squealed,  “Yes, Harry Potter, yes!”

Harry straightened up and looked around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” Harry bellowed. “RUN!”

“What’s happening-” Lian began to ask, but in the next moment, there was a stampede for the door. Lian could hear them sprinting in all directions down the corridor. Ron called over to where she and Theo stood, slightly confused.

“It’s Umbridge! She knows! You have to get out of here!”

Instantly understanding the panicked exit, Lian made to follow everyone else, but at the door she realized that Theo wasn’t with her. Turning back, she saw that he’d grabbed the piece of parchment Hermione had pinned to the wall all those months ago--the one with everyone’s name on it. He folded it and shoved it in his back pocket as he joined her. “We’ll never make it to the common room.”

“It’s not curfew yet, we can be casually walking,” she suggested as she led the way out into the hall. 

“Nothing about tonight's casual,” said Theo curtly. He snatched her hand and led her down a hidden passageway, coming to a halt halfway down. “We hide here until they’ve gone.”

“You think Umbridge knows about this route?” asked Lian, glancing back at where they’d been. “She seems the type to hide in corners.”

Theo shrugged. It wasn’t ten seconds later when they heard a ruckus going on above them. There was a thud like a body slamming into the stone floor. A voice loud and taunting that sounded familiar,  “Trip Jinx, Potter! Hey, Professor -- PROFESSOR! I’ve got one!”

Lian began to move back up the passageway. “That’s gotta be Malfoy, wait here.”

Theo grabbed her arm to prevent her from popping back into the hallway. “Just what do you plan on doing?”

“He’ll take the fall for all of us! She could get him expelled for this--if I can help him get away from Mal-”

Another voice, high-pitched and breathless, interrupted their whispered argument.  “It’s him! Excellent, Draco, excellent, oh, very good -- fifty points to Slytherin! I’ll take him from here… Stand up, Potter!”

Lian cursed under her breath. “Let me go, Nott!”

“No, she’s got him already, she’s not taking you, too,” he said stubbornly. 

“Don’t make me hex you,” she snapped. 

“Try me. I’m not letting you get yourself caught by that woman.”

Lian turned a steely glare on him. “ _ You _ aren’t the boss of me,” she said icily, before charging back into the corridor. She spotted Umbridge frog-marching Harry around the corner towards the magical stairway, and nearly collided with Malfoy, who was probably off to gather up more DA members. 

“Kowalski? What are you doing-” he broke off as Theo popped out behind her. He met Malfoy’s grey eyes with surprisingly defiant ones. Even though she still felt a bit cross towards him, Lian felt quite proud of him in that moment. “-oh. Have either of you seen students running around?” 

“No. Why?” asked Lian casually, pulling her arm away from Theo as he went to grab it. 

“They’ve been breaking the law, so to speak. If you see anyone who looks guilty, or just anyone out in the hallways in one of the other houses, bring them to either me or Umbridge.” 

“Sure,” grunted Theo, before he tried to block Lian again. And again, she pulled away.

“I’ll walk with you, Malfoy,” she stated, following the blond. He looked her over, glanced at Theo as if asking for permission, and then back at Lian. 

“Don’t remember asking for your help, Kowalski.”

“And yet I offer it anyway, aren’t you lucky?” she said sarcastically, taking the lead down the corridor. She half-expected Theo to follow them, but when he didn’t, she couldn’t tell if she was satisfied or disappointed.

Malfoy walked with her after a moment’s hesitation, telling her she could check the girl’s bathrooms for any stray students. She did so, finding both Ginny and Luna Lovegood in there, still panting heavily. 

“Lian? What’s going-” Ginny began, but Lian motioned for her to shut up.

“Whatever you hear, do not leave this bathroom, understand?” she whispered. “Malfoy and a few other volunteers are helping Umbridge look for you. Hide in the stalls, Disillusion yourselves, and shut up.”

Both of them nodded, moving to follow her instructions. She waited until it was a long enough time for her to appear thorough before leaving the bathroom. Malfoy was just outside, looking impatient. “Find anyone?”

“No. But there might be a few on the lower floors.” she gestured toward the stairway, and they both took off at a brisk pace. 

Thanks to Occlumency, Lian could not detect Malfoy’s thoughts by just glancing his way, but she knew he was burning with curiosity. As they descended the stairs to the sixth and fifth floors, she tried to peel back a corner of her mental wall, if just to get a peek at his thoughts. It was only a moment, but it was all she required. He wanted to know what she’d been doing with Theo but he planned to wait and ask Theo himself. Apparently, Lian’s blood wasn’t pure enough to deserve a normal human conversation. 

After searching every nook and cranny that made sense, Malfoy called it. “I’m going back to Umbridge’s office to see if anyone else was caught. You can go.”

“Will Umbridge be at her office?” 

“No. She’ll likely be confronting Dumbledore with the Minister. Breaking the Ministry decree is a serious offense, Kowalski.” said Malfoy, looking delighted. 

She wanted to ask if Harry was going to be expelled, but then remembered that Malfoy did not think she knew any details about Umbridge’s raid. Alternatively, she bid him farewell and tried in vain to locate the Headmaster’s office. She did spot someone who was neither a student nor a teacher leading a Ravenclaw girl with curly red hair down and around a corner. The girl was cradling her face in her hands as though it was the most important thing in the world that no one see it. But otherwise, she had no luck. The headmasters office wasn’t anything like the Room of Requirement, it transpired, rather when you needed it most it was less likely to reveal itself. That, or Lian was running in circles and in the completely wrong end of the castle. 

Either way, nearly a half hour later she happened upon Umbridge walking with the Minister of Magic. They were accompanied by two aurors and a skinny redhead who looked more like a secretary. Whatever the five had been discussing, they stopped once they caught sight of Lian on the stairwell. 

“Ah, Ms. Kowalski,” said Umbridge, who looked both pleased and extremely irate. It was not a pretty sight to behold. “Your hard work has paid off at last.” She turned to the Minister, waving Lian over with her clawed, stubby fingers. “You remember the American transfer student, Ms. Julianne Kowalski? She’s been my aid here at Hogwarts, playing an important role in giving me the inside to Potter and Dumbledore’s illegality.” Lian would rather be eaten alive by spiders than stand there and take that woman's praise. But she had little choice in the matter. She inwardly cringed as the Minister gave her a look of pride, but outwardly stood firm. 

“Of course. I should like to extend my personal gratitude. Dumbledore is a raving lunatic, after all, and when we finally track him down and take him to Azkaban, you shall be honored. If I remember correctly,” he tilted his head and gave what Lian assumed was meant as a fatherly smile. “It was your wish to study long-term at Hogwarts. Well that is now possible with the new Headmistress in charge.”

“The what?” Lian blurted, glancing at Umbridge, who now looked triumphant. Still quite an ugly sight. 

“Professor Umbridge has just taken up the role of Headmistress.” Fudge reiterated. “And I'm sure she’ll be delighted to grant your request to remain a student here, after all your efforts.” He glanced at the aurors behind him. “Now, we must return to the Ministry, and hunt him down as soon as possible.” He gave Lian one last smile that only served to dissolve what little air remained in her lungs, and then left, headed for the entrance hall.

“I'll see him out. But for the time being, Ms. Kowalski, please head to my office. I've arranged for a meeting with the best of the best.” She smiled her girlish smile and trotted off after her beloved Minister. 

Lian felt sick. She felt contaminated somehow; dying or physical torture paled in comparison to the sensation she was currently experiencing.  _ I don't understand. I never told her about the DA. Wait--did Umbridge talk about me in front of Harry?  _ She wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball, but didn't want to be there when Umbridge came back. Hating herself, and trying not to vomit, she made her way to Umbridges office, where she entered without knocking. Inside the disgustingly pink room she found Malfoy, Warrington, Montague, Crabbe, Goyle, Urquhart, Millie and Pansy, along with many other Slytherins that Lian had never learned the names of. Warrington flushed at the sight of her, but square d his jaw and attempted to look tough anyway. It was Malfoy who spoke. 

“What do you want, Kowalski? We're waiting for Professor-”

“Excellent,” Speak of the she-devil, Umbridge entered and closed the door behind her, stepping past Lian to her desk. “Thank you all for waiting.” 

Malfoy recognized that she didn't chase Lian away, but he still looked bothered by her being present as Umbridge continued. He was not alone; the whole of the ‘squad’ kept glancing over at her questioningly. 

“Were you able to apprehend anyone else?” Umbridge demanded, gazing around at them all. 

“We chased a group of Hufflepuffs but they got away,” said Montague, gesturing at himself and a few other seventh years. “I can still give you their names though.”

“I'll expect better from you in the future, Graham,” she said with a click of her tongue. “And there will indeed be a future. I have just been appointed as the Headmistress of Hogwarts.” She paused while those assembled clapped politely. “Now. I have asked you all to be here at this time because as Headmistress, and having accepted my new title so quickly, I will require assistance in convincing the rest of the student body to obey my regime. Therefore, my first act as Headmistress of this noble school will be to organize an Inquisitorial Squad. I should like to extend the invitation to each and every one of you. And your Captain shall be,” she raised an arm, gesturing at her chosen individual. “Ms. Kowalski.” 

Lian suddenly found herself back under everyone’s scrutiny. “Her?” Malfoy cried, his voice loud because he was stunned at being overlooked. “She’s not even a purebl-”

“I have selected her as Captain for a very specific purpose, Mr. Malfoy. She has proven her loyalty to the Ministry tenfold what you or anyone else in this room has done,” declared Umbridge shortly. “You will all report to her, and she in turn shall report to me.” 

She then went on to outline the powers, advantages and purpose of her new squad, including the ability to take away points, unlike the prefects. Lian didn't even pretend to listen, but she couldn't summon the strength to leave either. She felt hollow inside, as though her organs and muscles had been carved out with every word Umbridge uttered. It was very difficult to believe that only two hours ago, she'd been with the DA, trying to conjure a patronus. 

  
  


“He was incorrigible before; but now he’s downright insufferable.” Lian grumbled to herself, watching Malfoy strut around the hallway with his chest puffed out like a blowfish. His new Inquisitorial squad badge gleamed upon his chest right next to his Prefect badge. He was positively drunk with power; she’d spotted him taking away points from Harry, Ron and Hermione last week and all three of them looked ready to wrestle him to the floor.

Watching him bully a couple of second year Ravenclaws, she wished they had. Or at least shoved him into a cabinet--the Weasley twins had shoved Montague into one on the first floor the same day and he went missing for thirty-six hours. They also managed to set off a spectacular firework display that lasted until the day before last. 

As for her appointed position, it seemed to be nothing more than a title, but a title that she had to carry the weight of wherever she went. She’d been presented with a badge as well, but she’d accidentally lost it, and it's three replacements in six days. She always claimed to have no idea where they kept vanishing, all the while imagining the stupid things gathering algae at the bottom of the black lake. 

One job she detested more than the rest was the requirement to prowl the corridors, specifically the one on the seventh floor, in case anyone in opposition of the new Headmistress attempted to gather there. The full story of what had happened that night had not been disclosed, but everyone seemed to know that Professor Dumbledore had avoided capture by two highly trained aurors, both senior and junior undersecretaries of the Ministry of Magic and the Minister himself. 

Umbridge began orchestrating changes to her liking straightaway, declaring more Ministry decrees and new school rules. She banned Harry from playing Quidditch, likely because she was infuriated that she hadn't been able to expel or arrest him at all. Lian guessed that somehow Dumbledore had taken responsibility for everything, causing his hasty exit from the castle. 

The teachers were all on strike, silently. They did nothing to help Umbridge with her new administration; in fact when she had the everlasting fireworks to deal with the first few days, they all claimed to be inept at getting rid of them. This forced Umbridge to run the length of the castle in an attempt to banish them all. 

“Hey, Captain,” said someone, bringing her out of her reflections. Warrington stood nearby, a small smile playing across his lips. “Walk with me?”

“Where to?” she heard herself say. She’d been so numb the past few days she’d forgotten to keep him at bay, which he of course misinterpreted. 

“Well,” he leaned against the banister, still smiling slightly. “It’s the Easter holidays, I’m sick of studying for my NEWTs, and I think a walk about the grounds is the greatest thing anyone has said since ‘Slytherin won the Quidditch cup’. Are you coming or what?”

Lian cast around for a reason to say no, not that she needed one. She was well aware that she didn’t have to go anywhere she didn’t want to go. The reckless side of her said go for it, while the independent side of her wanted to say something brusque and march away. The logical side of her reasoned that he wouldn’t give up until she, at the very least, pretended to consider his endless offer. 

With a shrug, she finally spoke. “Alright.”

His expression changed from casual to stunned and back again in a matter of seconds, but he led her out into the courtyard quite cheerfully. In doing so they passed Zabini, Daphne and Theo, all of whom had decidedly stayed out of the Inquisitorial Squad. Lian opted to not look at them, because she already felt horrible from the recent events. She could still hear Hermione yelling at her when she overheard Umbridge commending Lian’s loyalty to the squad. It didn’t help that she’d been seen by Ron and George giving the squad members orders. 

_ “We trusted you! We thought you were our friend! But the whole time you were on her side!” _

_ “You bloody hypocrite! I was starting to believe Slytherins might be alright but thanks so much for proving yourself wrong!” _

Harry hadn’t said anything, he only glared at her, which in a way made her feel much worse than anything Hermione or Ron could say.

 

Theo hadn’t spoken to her in weeks. She received the distinct impression that he was avoiding her, and he wasn’t alone. The whole DA seemed to decide that it was best to pretend that Lian didn’t exist, which on some level was a bit better than she deserved. Frankly, she was surprised they didn’t practice everything they’d ever learned on her--though the new headmistress might take it personally if her specially selected squad leader got attacked by at least thirty different people. 

On the morning of the day before the end of the holidays, the fifth years found several leaflets, notices and pamphlets of various wizarding careers on the Slytherin table. Most of her year were already perusing them by the time Lian arrived at breakfast, all except those with a large inheritance. Malfoy and Theo sat off by themselves, deep in conversation. Lian spotted a single notice lying on the table between them as she passed by but didn’t bother to stop and investigate. 

The same thing had happened last year at Ilvermorny--suddenly she was expected to make a choice about the kind of career she wanted to pursue; but then thanks to Umbridge she was given an extra year to consider the proposal. She hadn’t been terribly fussed about a career this time a year ago, and that simple fact had not changed. 

“A career? Who do they think I am?” Daphne exclaimed, glaring at the job adverts as though they'd deeply insulted her. 

“It's only a suggestion,” Lian said placatingly. “You know, in case you get bored doing nothing all day.” 

“The life of an heiress is not boring,” Daphne said huffily. Beside her, Astoria nodded and mouthed ‘ _ Yes it is. _ ’

Lian laughed, confusing Daphne in the process. Malfoy looked over from where he and Theo were arguing. “What's that?”

“Nothing,” Lian said, but he waved her off. 

“Not you--Astoria what are you looking at?”

The younger Greengrass sister blushed at being addressed directly. She shoved something into her bag and kicked it under the table. It slid to a stop at Lian’s feet, where she tactfully tucked it under the bench. “Nothing!”

“You're not even a fifth year--and you don't need a career, I mean you're--” Malfoy looked indignant on several levels, as though any pureblood heir in the work environment was an affront to his whole view on life.  _ Which, now I think about it, is likely.  _

“What I do with my life is none of your business, Malfoy!” Astoria shot back. 

“Ladies don't shout, Tori,” admonished Daphne, gesturing for her to hush. 

“Stuff it, Daphne,” Astoria grumbled. Both her sister and Malfoy looked shocked, then rounded on Lian. 

“This is your fault,  _ Captain, _ ” Malfoy hissed. 

“Lian, she's so impressionable, you need to be a better example. What if you had a little sister?” Daphne pleaded. Something inside Lian snapped. 

“I’ve got a little sister--not that any of you care. She just started her education, and you know what I hope she learned from watching me? To work hard for what she wants, to treat her elders with respect and her equals the way she wants to be treated. To not take any elitist crap from anyone and to view the world not as it is but as it should be.” Daphne looked surprised, Malfoy still angry, but Theo and Astoria were grinning. Lian wasn't done. “And you know what! I didn't want to be  _ Captain,  _ Malfoy, but I am and if you talk to me like that again I'll take away-” she glanced at the hourglasses at the end of the hall. “-four hundred points from Slytherin.” 

“You wouldn't dare!” He snarled. 

“Try me. If you think for one second that I'm bluffing you haven't been paying attention.” She gathered up her bag, tossed Astoria’s back to her, and stormed from the hall.  _ That's it. I'm done with all of this.  _

 


	27. Theo

I spent the majority of the next week watching the chaos ensue. I was still pissed at her, but she was a delight to watch since the career information started to circulate through the fifth years. I almost wished for a wand holster, in the event that everyone she pissed off would gang up on her without warning. I’d defend her, even though I was aware that she wouldn’t want my help. 

Nearly three days after Lian snapped, so did those twins from Gryffindor. They turned an entire corridor into a swamp, told Umbridge where she could put her educational decrees, and gave Peeves, the poltergeist, a direct order. Then they flew off into the sunset, never to be seen again. I was pretty sure that Professor Flitwick could turn the swamp back to normal in an instant, but instead he roped it off and kept it. Umbridge and the majority of the Inquisitorial Squad were cracking down hard on the student body, with an all-too-eager caretaker and his psycho cat backing them up. I’d spotted Peeves unassembling every chair Umbridge had ever sat in on several occasions, so that when she next took a seat she would fall flat. 

Unbeknownst to the headmistress and her caretaker, the Captain of the Inquisitorial Squad had started her own mission. You could say she went rogue. I couldn’t understand why Umbridge thought that Lian would toe the line once appointed a position of power. But to be fair, I hadn’t predicted Lian to be quite as cunning as this when we met on the Hogwarts Express. I wish I had; life would have been simpler. 

Everything she did was unpredictable, most especially these days. On her way to Quidditch practice, she spotted Crabbe trip a young Hufflepuff boy, and awarded Hufflepuff ten points. She did the same thing on the way to dinner when Goyle shoved a couple of Ravenclaws out of his way. And she did keep her word to Malfoy. At any time, if someone in the squad spoke to her in a tone she felt was a little too disrespectful, she deducted points from her own house. They stopped sassing her almost two days into this pattern. 

I don’t know how no one reported her actions to Umbridge. Maybe she’d finally established enough credit with the housemates that they didn’t dare. Maybe they were biding their time, a prospect which I thought was a bit more likely, which would tie back to my desire for a wand holster.

At the end of the week, I was up late working on Ancient Runes homework, which was both my favorite and most hated subject. It was nearly one o’clock in the morning by the time I finished, and that was when it happened. The footsteps were subtle on the stone floor but it’s not like I could miss the girl crossing the common room in her night clothes. Her brown eyes were open but they were vacant of the usual fire that burned there. I didn’t anticipate the exit to open for her, so when it did I was scrambling out of my chair and running after her.

“Kowalski?” I whispered, hoping she would reply. “What are you doing?”

“It’s gonna be okay…” she mumbled, moving through the dark hallway. “He’ll always be there...”

Obviously I had no idea what that meant, but I did know one thing for certain: Lian was sleepwalking. I didn’t know much about it, but I’d heard once that you weren’t supposed to wake them up. Still, the imagery of her tripping and breaking her head open on one of the staircases kept me at her side. But she didn’t climb the marble staircase. Once out of the common room she made her way to Snape’s office. I knew she’d been studying in private on Mondays but I didn’t think she was stressed enough to dream about it. Once inside she moved through the room, pausing at the desk where a large stone basin sat. I took notice of the Saxon runes inscribed along the sides; one I recognized as the rune for ‘reflection’.

Pulling out her wand from her sweatpants pocket--I suspected she never slept without it on her person after the wandless incident at the start of term--Lian raised the tip to her temple and slowly began to remove a strange silvery substance from her head. She then proceeded to deposit the strand in the bowl. It spread across the top layer, revealing a scene of sorts, only I seemed to be watching from the sky, not from the side. I’d heard of these...what were they called again...paravel...penitent...pensive...Pensieve.

But what had driven Lian to unconsciously use it? Had she perhaps done this before? 

After leaving the memory, she took a seat in Snape’s chair and seemed to settle. Her vacant eyes closed and she released a soft snore. 

I should have left. I should have gathered her up and returned to the common room. But what kind of Slytherin would I be if I didn’t look?

_ Just a few seconds… _ I told myself, leaning closer to the silvery substance. The moment my nose made contact, I felt as though something had gripped the back of my belt and forced me into a head-first dive. 

I landed on my feet, miraculously, and stared around at my surroundings, which was not very helpful. I had never seen this place before. I was standing in a forest filled with fog so thick I could only see a few steps in either direction. Standing in front of me was a little girl, about five years old. 

She raised her hands to cup her mouth and yelled, “Mommy? Daddy?” A chorus of her own voice echoed back to her, or rather the fog threw it back, not allowing the cry to penetrate it.  _ Mommy...Daddy…  _ Undeterred, she tried again. “Mommy I’m here!”  _ I’m here!...here!... _

She turned slowly on the spot, peering into the fog bravely, and I finally saw her face. I’d recognize those freckles anywhere. Little Lian took a few steps forward, second guessed herself, and then turned back. Where was this place? What was she doing out here on her own?

“Daddy! Daddy where are you?” she called again, only encouraging the fog to mock by bouncing her own voice back. 

Something tall emerged a few feet away from her. It was completely covered in silver fur, and looked a bit like a skinny bear. Little Lian turned around when she heard its breathing, but it contorted itself and shrunk to hide behind her back. She could still hear it though, and turned on the spot over and over in an attempt to see the thing. 

I saw its claws raise up before it punctured her side. It bared its teeth and went in for the bite, when someone rushed out of the woods and fired a jet of flames at the creature. It howled and disappeared, though its fiery outline was still prevalent as it retreated into the mist. Lian collapsed on the ground, clutching her injury, as the wizard who’d come to save her rushed into view. He was a bit younger than Theo had expected, and was wearing plain black robes.  _ Hogwarts robes?  _

“Merlin!” he exclaimed as he laid eyes on Lian’s wound. “You weren’t kidding. Come on, stay awake! I’m not going anywhere,” he lifted the girl’s head as he pulled out his wand. 

The memory shifted, likely because Lian could not remember what happened next. The scene changed to that of a huge cave with a body of water that glowed a fluorescent greenish blue. I spotted Lian, who looked a bit older in this memory, sitting cross-legged in blue and cranberry robes. She was alone in this memory too, and appeared to be meditating. 

Again, where was this place? Why was she by herself?

There was a soft pop and someone appeared out of thin air beside her. I recognized the same wizard, unaged, from the last memory. This time, he was the injured one. He gave a strained grunt before he fell sideways onto the cave floor, where his blood proceeded to pool around him. Younger Lian, (maybe twelve?) scrambled over to the wizard (opposite choice I would have made,) and gently rolled him onto his back.

“You?” she asked, betraying her panic in the way her voice shook. “You came back. Why did you do that?” The wizard coughed, muttering something I couldn’t hear. Younger Lian shook her head. “No, no you’ll be fine. I just need to--hOlY shishkabob, that’s a lot of blood. Okay, I just need to-uhm-uh-” she tore her sleeve off and pressed it into the gash stretching across his chest. “-I knew I should’ve been a Pukwudgie,” she whined, her fright manifesting itself as tears. The wizard mumbled to her again and she began to really sob. 

I felt frozen, in every sense of the word. I wanted to do something, but I knew I wasn’t actually in that cave. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, never having seen her cry in the present. I was unversed as to what needed to be done when people cry--I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Daphne or Pansy full on weep. 

Younger Lian raised her wand to try and do something more, but the wizard forced her to put it down. He repeated his murmurings over, before he vanished from her arms, the cave and it's weird, glowing lake with another small pop. Younger Lian’s scream killed my eardrums, and I barely recognized the sensation of being pulled back into Snape’s office.

“Mr. Nott, would you care to explain what on earth you and Ms. Kowalski are doing in my office?” asked a very sleepy Professor Snape. One of his eyes refused to open, which I took as a good sign because I doubt very much whether the professor would approach any situation he deemed as serious while his body was only half-awake. 

Stifling a yawn, I hurried to reply. “I was in the common room doing homework, when she came out of the girls’ dorms, sleepwalking.” Even half-present, he still managed to look completely skeptical. “No, really, sir. She came here and removed a memory, and then fell asleep in the chair.”

“And you deemed it appropriate to not only follow her but to look into the Pensieve as well?” 

Yup. That’s exactly what happened. “I suppose so, sir.”

Professor Snape nodded, or maybe his head drooped forward before springing back upright. “Please return to your dormitory at once, Mr. Nott.” I nodded quickly, turning towards the door when- “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Right. The deadweight. I’d forgotten my wand in my bag, back in the common room, so I was forced to pick her up muggle-style. She wasn’t as heavy as I’d predicted, actually she was almost frail to the touch. As I transported her through the dungeons, it occurred to me that she’d lost weight. (I still remembered her jumping on my back and making me carry her to Charms like a common steed.) The difference now was somewhat alarming. 

I murmured the password to avoid startling her awake, (I wasn’t sure how to explain this,) and once inside the common room I realized the other half of the problem. I knew boys weren’t allowed in the girls dormitories; the last bloke that tried was instantly transported to the middle of the lake. Of course, there was another choice, but I opted for placing her gently on the lounger. I stowed my books and things in my bag, pulled out my wand and removed my robe to lay it over her. The vindictive side of me hoped that Warrington would see it, but the rest of me hoped she would wake on her own and retreat to the dormitories before anyone saw her like this. Hmm. 

Shortly after, I lay in my bed, trying to understand all that I had seen tonight. Even in her slumber, Lian had known exactly where to find the school Pensieve; indicating that she really was a seer or had at the very least seen it in there before. Probably during her private lessons with Snape. Maybe something in those memories were preventing her from focusing, or sleeping. I was aware of a few memories I wished to leave my mind for a while, one in particular about as traumatizing as what I’d just seen tonight. I distracted myself for a moment in wondering if she still had a scar on her stomach from the animal attack she’d suffered as a child. 

The bigger question, I decided, was the identity of the wizard. The longer I thought about it, the more I was certain that he’d been wearing Hogwarts robes. I almost wanted to go back to the Pensieve and look at the memory from different angles, to see if I could get a hint to who he had been. The second memory had been particularly impactful; had the wizard died? If he had, why hadn’t Lian been able to see a thestral?

Lian. I could have gone a thousand years without finding someone like her; and yet she had slithered into my life in such a firm way I couldn’t picture a single day without her. I craved speaking to her, watching her laugh and just being near her. Recently, I had attempted to withdraw from her. The night where everything went wrong, she shut me out completely and I didn’t understand why. Perhaps it was one of those ‘I need space’ things, which I comprehended all too well. But it seemed to be more than that. I was only trying to protect her from herself that night--not that I was in control of her decisions. That had been painfully clear since day one. What made my fascination with her the worse was that she never stopped being interesting. Every other person I had crossed paths with I could figure out in a second or two, but she was about as good if not better at hiding things than I was. My first impression of her was that she was independant and mouthy, but the very next day she was clever and diligent and as a bonus she performed magic non-verbally. Then she could also fly, and then she was able to speak to others on good terms. She wasn’t impressed by Draco, nor intimidated by Zabini, Crabbe or Goyle; she looked at others for who not what they were. 

_ Merlin, I sound like I love...oh. _

 

Later that day, I received a summons to the headmistress’s office. (It was in the exact same place as it had been before she banished Dumbledore, as the head’s office had refused to let her in.) I suspected she was going to attempt to initiate me into the squad, but when I knocked on the door, it wasn’t the high-pitched “come in,” I’d been expecting. Rather it was a low grunt of welcome, and when I pushed the door open it was to find my father sitting alone in a pink room upon a velvet cushioned armchair. 

He was a tall man, with a somber expression usually, with gray hair and eyes that reminded me of a bloodhound. I never told him this, of course. I hadn't expected to see him, much less in the frilly environment. He'd never come to see me at school before. Something was wrong. 

“Father?” I asked formally, gripping my wrist behind my back and standing up straight. 

“There's been a development at work,” he began, choosing his words carefully. He probably suspected that the office was listening, and knowing Umbridge he might be correct. “I'll need you to start taking on some responsibilities very soon.” He stood up and crossed the room to where I stood, clutching something in his hand. Hesitantly, I extended my own to accept whatever it was. He pressed something cold and metal into my palm and whispered, “be ready. You will know when the time is right.” 

I kept my mouth shut. I'd never talked back to my father once in my life; doing so now when he was growing so frail might finish him off. He still had enough pull at his old contacts to get Umbridge to grant us some privacy. He knew the mail was being watched and he was already so paranoid these days he didn't dare send me a letter. Not that he would anyway. I pocketed the metal item he had given me, feeling sick to my stomach. 

My father nodded and clapped my shoulder, like I was a faithful employee, not his only son. “Good man. I must return to the company.”

His work he’d retired from about a year ago, leaving it in the care of a steward until I was old enough to take the reins, as it were. I knew exactly what ‘company’ he was referring to, but again, kept quiet as he moved to Umbridge’s fireplace and left without another word. 

_ Just what I needed with exams around the corner,  _ I thought grimly, exiting the way I came. 

 

“Where’s your robe?” asked Daphne as we walked to Potions the following Wednesday. I shrugged carelessly.

“It’s too hot,” I said evasively. I mean, I knew exactly where my school robe was--presently it was draped around one Captain of the Inquisitorial Squad, the hem brushing the floor as it was a bit long for her. She was ahead of us, arguing with Draco over points. I’d have thought that by now they’d be bored of bickering, but upon closer observation I recognized the teasing tone over a taunting one, from Draco. There was a subtle difference, but it was very much present. Zabini joined into their argument with a few comments of his own, adding a few words in Italian, which made Lian laugh.

The exchanges were happening only feet from me, and yet to me it felt like they were happening on the other side of the black lake. What was happening? Had she snuck into their lives the same way she’d crept into mine? But they were so weird about purebloods, it wasn’t possible for them to...well actually, that wasn’t true. I knew something about Zabini’s bloodline that he kept well hidden under his arrogance. Sometimes I wondered if Draco knew. Watching them interact with Lian, I wondered if  _ she _ knew? If she confronted him about it, that could explain why Zabini was being civil. It still didn’t account for Draco’s actions though. 

It was a work day in potions, namely we were required to perfect any potion we still had trouble brewing correctly in time for our OWLs. Near the front of the class, I noticed Lian was working out of a sixth year textbook rather than notes from previous classes like the rest of us. I suppose on some level it made sense, after all she was technically in her sixth year of school. That made me wonder if she was going to be apart of the OWL exams or if she’d sit for advanced examinations. Had she been doing sixth year homework for the extent of her time here?

“You’re going to burn your shrivelfig,” Daphne cautioned at my elbow. I snapped back to my surroundings and rushed to save the fig before it became useless. “And if you keep staring at her like that you’ll burn a pair of holes into the back of her skull.”

“Would that be so bad?” I murmured in reply, wrinkling my nose at the slightly sour scent my fig was now giving off. “Maybe then she’d talk to me; granted, it would be at a high velocity and slightly dangerous to my health.”

“And the longevity of this school,” she coughed. “Though I’m sure that’s already in peril with Umbridge in charge. D’you know she put four consecutive classes in detention the other day?”

“Those Weasley twins know how to make a profit. But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” came the brisk reply, before she pulled her wand on my cauldron and vanished the solution that was begging for death. “Get through the year first, and then you can worry over whether or not she still wants to be your friend.”

I went to gather fresh ingredients from the cupboard, grumbling silently about how she was my ally, not friend. That brought up the memory of her clarification, way back on the outskirts of Hogsmeade: ‘ _ I don't need a friend. I don't need a boyfriend. I need someone I can trust, who will trust me, and that's why I need an ally _ .’ What was the definition of an ally, anyway? Off the top of my head, I imagined it to be more similar to the kind of relationship Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass wanted me to have with their eldest daughter, rather than the supportive partner that Lian had tried to recruit. And she had certainly tried. But I don’t think I was as reliable as she’d wanted, or we wouldn’t be in this mess.

If I thought that my problems stopped with OWL exams and a very confusing American, I was dead wrong. Unfortunately I got the alert about how mistaken I was about five minutes too late.


	28. Lian Kowalski against the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

Lian paused as she entered the corridor that had been transformed into a swamp nearly a month ago. It might be her imagination, but it might also be true that it seemed to be growing past the ropes that Professor Flitwick had constructed after Fred and George had left. She’d heard a few rumors that they’d set up shop in a place called Diagonally. She wondered if it was close to the corner of Horizontally and Vertically. 

She was alone on patrol that night; mainly because both the library and the common room were so full of tension that(even with her firmly constructed self-Occlumency skills)  was driving her insane. The NEWTs and OWLs started tomorrow morning, and she remembered quite well how stressful that experience had been. When she’d agreed to join the fifth year class at Hogwarts over a year ago, she’d put her foot down on the condition that she keep up with her level of work. After all, whether or not she was retaking the OWLs would not affect how she interacted with Harry Potter or former-headmaster Dumbledore. 

Not for the first time in the last nine months, she wondered how differently her long-awaited Hogwarts experience would have been if Umbridge had never contacted her. Perhaps if Umbridge hadn’t been present at all… 

She wouldn’t be despised by two thirds of the student body, well, maybe. She wouldn’t have had to be quite so elusive and secretive; she could have poured her heart and soul into Quidditch, instead of allowing the team to fall so far. (Their defeat by Hufflepuff was inevitable without Montague to lead them, but still quite embarrassing.) She might’ve enjoyed herself a bit more; might have even been able to produce an actual Patronus.

But the one thing she wondered about more than the rest...would she still be in Slytherin? Initially she’d thought she’d been sorted because she’d always planned on double-crossing Umbridge and getting her fired from the Ministry, which of course didn’t happen. Perhaps a bit hypocritical, considering how often she climbed on the soapbox about how Slytherin’s were not inherently evil; but also taking into account how much of a demon-spawn Umbridge turned out to be, Lian never felt guilt on the matter. But, she had proved to be the dandelion of the British Ministry: not very frightening to look at but hiding strong roots that went down into the molten lava in the center of the Ministry of Magic. Lian discovered she would have better luck digging a tunnel to China than finding a way to fire the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. That didn’t mean she would stop trying.

Digressing back to the sorting question, she thought about the qualities of a true Slytherin. In every book she’d read, every resource had proved that true Slytherins were simply cunning, proud, resourceful, ambitious, intelligent, determined, and had a tendency to look after their own. Interestingly, that last bit made Lian think of the U.S. military, “No one gets left behind.” Slytherins knew what they wanted and they went for it, no reservations. 

_ I knew what I wanted...I had no idea what I would get,  _ she thought heavily. 

 

As the weather turned from bright and cold to warm and beautiful, it was the telltale sign that the exam season had arrived. Lian had seen and heard just about everything from Harold Dingle’s powdered dragon claw to  E ddie Carmichael’s Brain Elixir to give the naive fifth years the ‘extra boost’; while Draco Malfoy wouldn’t shut up about his connections that would inevitably give him an advantage. Lian had been tempted to tell him that she’d had a personal conversation with the Minister but couldn’t find the words without stabbing her wand in her eye. 

She helped Pansy and Millie study with Tracey and Lily for their Charms exam Sunday night. Across the common room, Daphne was quizzing Theo, who stared up at the ceiling as he recited the entire textbook from memory. If Lian listened carefully, she could detect the tune from the song  _ Hungry Like the Wolf. _

The following morning found the fifth and seventh years with a loss of appetite and nerves like you wouldn’t believe. Even the lioness, who Lian noticed from across the hall, wasn’t confident enough in her abilities to relax. Only Montague seemed unnerved, but Lian genuinely believed that he didn’t know what day it was, let alone that he was about to take the biggest exam of his charmed life. Fortunately, Warrington looked nervous enough for both of them. 

She approached Theo to wish him good luck, but when he turned to face her, Lian’s throat stopped working. After an awkward pause of staring at each other, Lian finally managed a wide smile. Then, watching the rest of the crowd being corralled back into the great hall, she retreated to the marble staircase.

Without any real direction in mind, she ran headlong into a mass of blonde hair that folded upon impact. “Oh! Sorry, Luna, I wasn’t looking-”

“That’s alright,” replied Luna Lovegood in her faraway voice. She and Lian hadn’t interacted much over the course of the year, even though they were both in the DA. Zacharias Smith had been in there, and Lian still wanted to punch him every time he opened his mouth. “You aren’t taking the OWLs with the rest of your year?”

“No... I finished my OWLs last year at my old school,” Lian explained reluctantly. “It’s not an experience I’d like to repeat.”

“Yes. I watched Padma dissolve into tears several times over the past week out of stress,” said Luna, nodding thoughtfully. “I guess it all comes from parents who place too much emphasis in good grades.”

“Probably.” It dawned on Lian that Luna wasn’t accusing her of being a traitor. Nearly every other ex-DA member had said as much once they got the chance. “It won’t make much of a difference, but I am sorry for what happened to the DA.”

Luna blinked. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“How do you know?”

“I still remember what you did the night it happened. If anyone else had found Ginny and I, they would’ve turned us over to Umbridge; but it was you, and you made sure we were safe.” The Ravenclaw shrugged slightly. “If it hadn’t been for you, she and I would have been expelled or something, I’m sure. And I know everyone else only sees you as Umbridge’s Captain, but you awarded Ravenclaw over a hundred points in one week because the rest of the Inquisitorial squad was bullying us, especially Marietta Edgecomb.”

“Who?” Lian asked, not recognizing the name.

“She’s the girl who blabbed to Umbridge about the DA. She was under a lot of pressure from her mother, I think, to be on the Ministry’s side, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore.” Luna leaned forward conspiratorially. “Apparently that Hermione Granger jinxed the paper we all signed--the one that went missing before the squad could lay a hand on it--and now Marietta’s face is covered it spots that spell the word ‘sneak’.” The girl nodded sagely. “She’s very upset.”

Lian released a bit of weight from off her shoulders. So, it hadn’t been her fault that Umbridge discovered the DA. “Well, who wouldn’t be?” she said rhetorically. “Where are you off to, Luna?”

The girl reached into her bag and withdrew a handful of raw meat. “I was going to feed the thestrals. Want to come?”

Lian’s interest spiked through the roof, but she knew she had her own tests to take today. “I really would, actually, but I’ve got a heavy schedule myself. I’ve got a potions final and then a transfiguration test to scrape my way through.”

Luna shrugged, placing the meat back into her bag. “That shouldn’t be too hard for you, being an Animagus and all.”

She made ten paces towards the double doors when her words finally sank in. “Wait, what?”

Luna looked over her shoulder, smiling serenely. “You’d think somebody would know that Wampus cats are native to Northern America,” she said cheekily, before leaving Lian standing there, dumbfounded and impressed.

 

Over the next week, when Lian wasn’t taking her tests, she found herself in the company of Ginny and Luna, who welcomed her presence. It was a more welcome alternative than watching the fifth and seventh years drive themselves nuts. After a steady haze of time passed on, Thursday afternoon found Lian and Luna trying to teach Ginny how to meditate. They were all trying to calm down after Umbridge’s most recent debacle. (She sacked Hagrid by sneaking up on him in the middle of the night, and when McGonagall went to his defense she took four stunners to the chest.) It shook up more than just Gryffindor House, even Lian (who didn’t love the professor herself) had half a mind to curse the headmistress into oblivion in retribution. 

“I feel like I’m falling asleep.” Ginny repeated for the fifth time. “I need a break. Or a flying sesh. Flying sounds like a great idea.” She jumped to her feet and was out in the hall before Lian or Luna could stop her. 

“She’s a bit antsy today...moving might be better for her.” Luna stated fairly, standing up and following after her friend. Lian joined them reluctantly, walking at a distance along the corridor. It was then that a loud voice sounded from the classroom at the far end. 

Ginny opened the door on an impulse, while Luna drifted in behind her. Lian hesitated on the threshold, listening. 

“Hi. We recognized Harry’s voice--what are you yelling about?”

“Never you mind,” said a voice that had to belong to Harry. Lian was very grateful for her foresight to remain in the hall.

“There’s no need to take that tone with me. I was only wondering whether I could help.”

“Well, you can’t.”

“You’re being rather rude, you know,” said Luna serenely. Harry swore. 

“Wait,” said Hermione suddenly. “Wait. . . Harry, they  _ can _ help. Listen, Harry, we need to establish whether Sirius really has left headquarters--”

“I’ve told you, I saw--”

“Harry, I’m begging you, please! Please let’s just check that Sirius isn’t at home before we go charging off to London--if we find out he’s not there then I swear I won’t try and stop you, I’ll come, I’ll d-do whatever it takes to try and save him--”

“Sirius is being tortured NOW!” shouted Harry. “We haven’t got time to waste--”

“But if this is a trick of V-Voldemort’s--Harry, we’ve got to check, we’ve got to--”

Lian backed away from the classroom the gears in her mind spinning. Harry hadn’t been keeping up with Occlumency, and there was a weighty chance that something bad was going to happen because of it. 

_ I have to find Professor Snape. _ She spun on her heel and charged down the corridor, grateful that she hadn’t been required to wear her uniform that day. 

Exams had just barely finished, nearly everyone was racing out to the lake to enjoy the freedom and sunshine. Had she not just eavesdropped on the urgent conversation involving Harry Potter and his daydreams of the Dark Lord, Lian would have been most inclined to join them. As it was, Snape was grading tests for first years in his office. His sour expression did not bode well for the curve.

“Ms. Kowalski, normally I expect a knock from visitors,” he growled as she stomped through his door.

“Sir, this is important.” she insisted. “How long has it been since you had an Occlumency lesson with Potter?”

“I beg your pardon?” Snape sat up, his eyes scanning her like an x-ray. 

“I know it stopped because he’s plotting some half-brained raid on the Ministry of Magic to save his Godfather from being tortured, which as I say it aloud sounds about as crazy as it did when I first heard it!” she blurted, pointing up at the ceiling for emphasis. “His mind is exposed to manipulation if you haven’t been helping him build his defenses.  _ Sir _ .”

“Ms. Kowalski, I suggest you choose your next words very carefully.” He cautioned, though in a figurative sense, Lian watched steam blow out his ears. Somehow, she’d hit a nerve. The vampire had feelings after all. 

“Professor Dumbledore trusted you to protect Harry Potter,” she said evenly, her voice retreating several volumes. “In the absence of his ‘order’s’ presence in this school, the weight falls heavily upon your shoulders to protect the boy, however much he vexed you. Now,” she began to pick up speed in case he decided to stop listening to her. “He is totally convinced that Black is being tortured; I just heard him shouting at his friends that they needed to go and save him.”

“And as resourceful as you are, your immediate action was to inform me?” Snape replied in that same even tone. 

“Potter and I aren't exactly on speaking terms; he wouldn't listen to me unless I had infallible proof...perhaps not even then,” she added thoughtfully. 

Snape put down his quill, (it had punctured a hole in several layers of parchment while Lian had spoken previously,) and stood slowly, apparently deep in thought. At length, he said, “I will go to headquarters to confirm Black’s whereabouts. In the meantime, I have two tasks for you to carry out swiftly and without anyone else getting involved.”

Lian stood there and listened intently as he laid out his plan for her, before leaving the office, her mission the only thing occupying her mind, for a change. 

 

The first task was rather simple, having attempted something similar in the past year. The second part was made a bit more complicated when she was summoned to Umbridge’s office. In there she found Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna, all struggling with members of the Inquisitorial Squad, or in Harry's case, Umbridge herself. It looked as though Harry had been caught using the head’s fireplace.  _ That's one way to get there I suppose. _

“Headmistress?” Lian began carefully, her mind refereeing an argument with her reckless and logical halves. 

“Ah, there you are, Captain,” Umbridge hissed. “I need you to oversee the incarceration of these three,” she waved her hand over Ron, Ginny and Luna. “While these two lead me to Dumbledore’s weapon.”

Lian had no clue where that idea had come from, so she just went with it. “Of course, Headmistress. Shall I dispatch a few members of the squad to accompany you?” She asked, hating herself and the way the three musketeers glared at her. 

“I am a qualified Ministry official, I shan't need the protection of  _ children, _ ” she snapped, all fake, girlish, gushing suddenly absent from her speech. 

“Of course not, ma’am,” Lian nodded seriously. “Still, what if they attempt to use Dumbledore’s weapon on you? There's no harm in having a few present for…” she glanced around at her fellow Slytherins, which included Warrington, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and a few sixth years.  _ Canon fodder. _ “Security.”

Umbridge paused, evidently taking Lian’s words into consideration. “I think not, Kowalski, but I am impressed with your ingenuity. Now, take them away-” she shook a finger at the three previously indicated. Lian barked orders to the lumps holding Luna and the two Weasleys firm, leading the way towards the dungeons. She recognized that the sixth years were the same few who had assisted in stringing her upside down and wandless in September. All of them, excluding Malfoy and Warrington, had been involved in that night. 

She opened the door to that same, unused classroom and jerked her head at the squad members. “In here.”

They did so, a couple of them glancing nervously at the wrought iron chandelier.  _ If I'm gonna do this it better be quick. Okay. _

“Let them go,” she ordered. Malfoy looked around at her incredulously. 

“Excuse me?” He sneered. “That's the opposite of what Professor Umbridge told you to do.”

“I'm sorry, but I won't obey that woman any longer.” Lian said, turning her wand on them all. “Will you?”

Warrington didn't hesitate like she expected him to, rather he placed his wand on the table. Speaking to the rest, Lian said, “I’m acting on the direction of Professor Snape. Do you really want to place your loyalty with a fraud from the Ministry, or the head of House who acts under our best interest?” 

Malfoy considered her, in the same manner as Umbridge had done a few minutes ago. “What exactly is Professor Snape’s goal?”

“You saw how Umbridge dismissed us,” Lian explained, “she doesn't actually trust any of us, we’re means to an end.” She then added the trump card. “Besides, if Umbridge gets the sack--which is clearly going to happen anyway she’s losing her mind--who do you think will take her place? McGonagall’s out, Dumbledore’s on the run--”

“The best for the job would be Professor Snape,” finished Malfoy, his grey eyes glittering as he picked up what Lian was putting down. “That still doesn't explain why we should skip an opportunity to have fun with Weasley and-”

“Nothing, except you’ll prove him right.” Lian nodded at Ron, who was still struggling in Crabbe’s grip. 

“How d’you mean?” It was one of the sixth years who asked. 

“Him. The rest of his house. The whole of the three houses, really: I've been saying it since the beginning. They only see Slytherins as those who cheat, bully and lie, and every time you do, you’re only sinking to their level and making their beliefs come true.” She folded her arms. “I say we shouldn't have to; we all know that Slytherin is the best house, so why use less than honorable means to prove it?”

“They helped Potter break into the head’s office,” someone grunted. 

“A head who we all agree is no longer fit to lead this school,” Lian reminded them. “If they've done nothing wrong by our standards, they should be free to leave.” 

She took a moment to stare them down, not in a scary way but an ‘ _ I'm convincing you that I'm right with just my eyes,’ _ kind of way. Another minute, Ron, Luna and Ginny were released, and the former’s stunned expression was worth it. 

Malfoy voiced a brilliant idea. “We should find the rest of the squad and fill them in.”

“Yeah, I saw Montague and Pucey out by the lake,” said Warrington in agreement. 

Malfoy met Lian’s gaze and nodded, then led the rebel Inquisition out of the classroom, leaving her alone with the Gryffindors and Ravenclaw. The girls looked amazed, but Ron had regathered his incredulity. 

“What the bloody hell was that about?” He cried, pulling his wand on Lian. “If you think this little show is going to get you back into our good graces, you’ve got another-”

“Ron, I don't care,” said Lian, looking bored by his anger. “What matters now is we find Harry.”

She turned her back on him and marched through the dungeons, followed shortly by he, Ginny and Luna. “Where’s ‘Dumbledore’s weapon’, then?”

“No idea,” said Ginny, taking the stairs two at a time. “Hermione just started spouting ideas that I’d never heard before, but that old toad absorbed every single word.”

“They probably went into the Forbidden Forest,” reasoned Luna, standing at one of the tall windows that looked down upon the grounds.

“Why on earth would anyone go in there?” asked Ron, joining her.

“Well, if I wanted to fool Umbridge into looking for a dangerous magical weapon to use on the ministry, I’d take her through a stroll in the big, magical-creature-inhabited forest, wouldn’t you?” she replied simply. “Also, I’m pretty sure something just threw a tree from that part of the forest over to the south side. Odds are, Harry, Hermione and Umbridge are nearby.”

_ Well reasoned, _ Lian thought, making her way over to the double doors and out across the grass. A few people relaxing by the lakeside hailed the four of them as they strode past, but no one seemed too bothered when they didn’t stop and visit. 

Several minutes into the forest, Lian pulled the other three behind her, having heard what sounded suspiciously like a stampede. A moment later they witnessed a herd of centaurs storming along the ridge. In their midst, held by her limbs and screaming like a banshee, was Dolores Umbridge. 

After the herd had passed on, Ron exhaled loudly. “Blimey. Wish someone had thought of that sooner.”

“Not funny,” Lian rebuked, biting her lower lip to hide a smile.

“It’s kinda funny,” said Ginny fairly.

Luna didn’t answer, she was busy not breathing because she was laughing so hard. Lian rallied them again and they moved onward. 

It wasn’t long before they heard voices approaching.  “...Harry, how exactly were you planning to get all the way to London?”

As Hermione and Harry came into view, Ron called, “Before we go skipping of to the city, you might want your wand back, eh?”

The lioness and the Boy-Who-Lived spun around. Harry’s eyes narrowed when he saw Lian. “Why is she with you?”

“Nice to see you too, Harry,” she said dryly. “Good job on getting Umbridge out of the way.”

“Are we supposed to trust you?” asked Hermione, accepting her wand from Ginny only to point it at Lian. “You didn’t deny to be working with Umbridge.”

“For.”

“Excuse me!” The lioness hissed, and Lian swore she saw electricity flare up from her mane.

“I was working  _ for _ Umbridge, not with; there’s a difference.” Lian raised her hands up in surrender. “Look, if Umbridge wanted to force you to be on her side of things, she’d find a way. Only, your blood status places you below her radar. She used my weakness against me, something I won’t allow to ever happen again. Don’t look at me like you’ve never had a weak moment, Granger.”

“Not to mention, she saved me and Luna the night of the raid,” Ginny piped up. “And she just turned the entire Inquisitorial Squad against Umbridge.”

Harry and Hermione gave Lian a familiar slack-jawed expression. “How?”

“She just talked to them,” said Ron, giving Lian a half-wary, half-impressed glance. “You should’ve seen Malfoy’s face, but even he went along with it.”

Lian shrugged. “It’s a Slytherin thing.”

“So, Harry, you know for certain that Sirius is in London?” asked Ron. 

Harry rubbed at his scar. “Yes. We have to go now!”

“But if the fireplaces are still being watched, how are we supposed to get there in time?”

“By broom,” Harry decided. “We’ll get three from the pitch-”

“Four,” insisted Ginny. “I’m coming with you.”

“No you’re not!” said Ron.

“Try and stop me Ronald!”

“We don’t have time-” Harry protested.

“Why don’t we ride them?” said Luna, pointing across the clearing at something Lian couldn’t see. “Hagrid says they’re great at getting you where you need to go.”

Harry turned to look and let out a gasp of relief. “Yes!”

“Don’t tell me; Thestrals.” Lian squinted at the spot where Luna and Harry were watching.

“Great, Ron and I will take these two-”

“You’re not leaving me behind!” said Hermione and Ginny together.

“If we wait, more will come,” said Luna dreamily. “That would give us time to learn why you both are covered in blood.”

Harry and Hermione looked down at themselves as if only just realizing this fact. “The centaurs carried off Umbridge-”

“Yes, we saw that,” said Lian dismissively. “And?”

“And then they got chased off by Grawp.” Harry tugged at his shirt. “This is his blood.”

“Who’s Grawp?” asked Ginny.

“Hagrid’s little brother,” said Ron. “Why are those mad horse-thingy’s here, though?”

“They’ll be attracted to fresh meat, or blood in this case.” Lian answered.

“Great, more are coming, so we’ll take these four-” said Harry, rushing over to the nearest thestral and climbing onto its back. It wasn’t the weirdest thing Lian had ever seen, but it was up there.

“Um, how are we supposed to get on if we can’t see them?” asked Hermione tentatively.

“It’s no problem.” said Luna happily. “I’ll help you. And look, there’s enough for the seven of us.”

Ginny replied in confusion. “We only need six.”

“Well now, that’s not true,” said a voice from behind them. Lian turned to see Theo Nott approach, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyebrows quirked. “What’s this about going to London?”

 


	29. Part One: The Mysterious Department

“Ministry of Magic, visitor’s entrance, London, then,” Harry said uncertainly. “Er. . .if you know. . .where to go. . .”

Lian tensed from where she sat upon an invisible skeletal horse, but for a second nothing happened. Just as she began to doubt that the thestrals understood English, the boney structure beneath her moved so suddenly she almost fell off. It shot upwards as though it had been fired from a cannon, almost directly vertical. Lian clutched any part of the invisible horse she could, desperately trying not to slide down the backside of the beast. She vaguely hoped she wasn’t hurting the thestral as she tugged on its mane by the roots. 

“This is bizarre!”  Ron yelled from somewhere behind her, voicing exactly what she was thinking as they streaked over the castle. How weird it was to fly at this speed without a broom or anything visibly supporting her. She was practically watching the world spin beneath her. 

At her side, Theo was riding as though he was born to it, and behind her, Luna rode side-saddle like she had done this everyday.  _ Which is quite possible. _

Because Theo hadn’t been involved with the squad, Harry and the rest were not as hostile as they had been towards Lian; and Harry was so bent on rescuing his godfather that he snapped and said whether or not any of them came was their choice, which brought them up to speed on flying the bloodthirsty, invisible omens of death. 

_ This is so cool! _

They landed on a lamplit back alley in the middle of London, a short way from a vandalized telephone box. Night had fallen while they’d travelled, though at the speed of their mounts, Lian was surprised time itself had not stood still.

She slid off her thestral, her legs wobbly.  Ron toppled immediately off his thestral onto the pavement. “Never again,” he said, struggling to his feet. He made as though to stride away from his thestral, but, unable to see it, collided with it and almost fell over again. “Never, ever again. . .that was the worst-”

“Where to?” Lian asked Harry as the rest of them dismounted with varying amounts success. 

“This way,” he said, marching over to the telephone box and opening it. Lian was pretty certain she’d seen something like this on television, but she and the others squished themselves into the phone booth, that was in no way bigger on the inside.  “Whoever’s nearest the receiver, dial six two four four two!” he said.

Theo, who was tallest, reached over Luna’s head and entered the code.  A cool, female voice sounded inside the box, “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

“Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger,” Harry said very quickly, “Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Lian Kowalski, Theodore Nott. . . We’re here to save someone, unless your Ministry can do it first!”

_ Sassy, _ thought Lian, as the disembodied female voice thanked them and seven badges dropped where the coins usually popped out. The booth whirred noisily as it began to descend into the ground. Lian watched skeptically as the sidewalk rose up over their heads until they were standing in complete, downward darkness. She was sandwiched between Hermione and Theo, her nose itching slightly from stray hairs tickling it. She could feel rather than hear Theo’s heart pounding against her back. The rhythm was indicative of fear, causing her to wonder why he wanted to come.  _ Does he know something we don’t? Or does he have something to prove? _

At length, the booth stopped and released them out into a large atrium, but Lian didn’t have time to admire the decor. She could’ve sworn she heard someone calling her name, and looked around at the others, who, sans Theo, were all charging after Harry. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Theo, watching her turn on the spot.

“Someone spoke to me,” she said, squinting around at the eerily empty room.  _ You’d be hard pressed to find MACUSA this empty.  _ “I heard someone call my name.”

Theo stared around, shrugging. “I don’t-”

“There it is again--wait a second!” Lian reached into her pocket and withdrew a small mirror. Her face was not reflected in it, on the contrary she was met with Professor Snape’s hooked nose and dark eyes. 

“Where are you, Ms. Kowalski?” he demanded. 

“In the Ministry of Magic,” she replied quickly. “Harry said he checked headquarters using Umbridge’s firepl-”

“He spoke to the house-elf,” Snape growled, “who lied.” The mirror shook as its twin abruptly switched hands. Lian was now face to face with one Sirius Black. Theo gave a small grunt of surprise beside her.

“Where’s Harry?” Black said, glaring up at Lian. “I want to talk to him now!”

Lian looked up, but she and Theo were alone in the atrium. The other five had gone on without them. She mumbled a choice word under her breath. “I’ll get him. I know exactly where he’s going.”

“We’ll be right there!” declared Black, before Snape cut him off in the background. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Black. Dumbledore was quite clear-”

“Dumbledore has no idea where Harry is, but I do-!” Lian shoved the mirror back in her pocket, muting the argument somewhat. She ran across the huge room to the questionable lifts on the other side, pressing the button for level 9. Theo jumped inside just as the gate shut, sending them down at a miserably slow pace. For a moment, the only sounds were of Snape and Black arguing in Lian’s pants pocket.

After an uncomfortable pause, Theo spoke, “Can I ask for a brief explanation or will I be forced to play catch-up all evening?”

Lian sighed. “What do you want to know?”

He cleared his throat. “To start, were you just talking to Sirius Black through a small mirror?” Lian nodded. “Um, okay. Wasn’t Potter adamant about rescuing someone being tortured?” She nodded again. “Why then are we in the Ministry of Magic?”

“Harry has nightmares, that occasionally allow him to see what the Dark Lord sees or feels. Apparently during his last exam, he saw Sirius Black getting tortured down in the Department of Mysteries.”

“Uh huh. Follow up question; what connection does Potter have with Black?”

“Black is Harry’s godfather. He’s one of the last remnants of a family that Harry has.”

“Of course he is,” said Theo in an almost resigned tone. “So he just went charging down there, convinced that a teenage boy can defeat the Dark Lord? And isn’t Black with Snape?”

“Yes and yes; that’s why we have to extract Harry before something bad happens. I’m pretty sure this is a trap, but hopefully it’s all a big mistake.” She shivered involuntarily. “Like, a stress-induced nightmare, not a manipulation by a dark wizard.”

“If it is a trap, it’s likely that there will be dangerous people lurking about.” Theo commented. “ _ His _ followers.”

Lian glanced up at him. She still hadn’t asked him about his father, there never seemed to be a good time.  _ Could you pass the sausages and oh by the way how’s dad? Does he have the dark mark on his left arm?  _ “What will you do if there are?”

He met her gaze. “What will you do?”

She shrugged slightly. “What I always do. Follow my instincts, stay alive. . . and today, keep Harry safe.”

The lift came to a halt, the female voice announced that they were at level nine, Department of Mysteries. The gate opened and Lian stepped out towards the lonely door at the end of the hall but paused when Theo snatched her wrist. “Why… why Potter?”

“Because he is the embodiment of hope; whether he likes it or not.”  _ To quote a much older, more bearded gentlemen than myself.  _ “If he dies today, it will be a worse world tomorrow, and…” she bit her tongue, afraid to finish her thought.

“And?” Theo’s voice was quiet. Instinctively she knew he already had the answer, but he was waiting for her to say it out loud.

“Any chance you’d have of escaping the shadow of your father will disappear.” She expected him to drop her hand, close the lift, and leave. She expected a hex to land squarely in the middle of her back, or maybe to just be vanished into non-being. She did not expect Theo to move his hand to hers, and pull her towards the lonely door that led into the Department of Mysteries.

“Should have led with that, Kowalski.”

“Dually noted.” They stepped through the door. 

It led into a large, circular room. Everything in there was black including the floor and ceiling -- identical, unmarked, handle-less black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue, their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor so that it looked as though there was dark water underfoot .

Theo made to close the door they’d just entered through but Lian shoved her foot in the frame. “Wait.” She pointed at the other doors along the wall, a few of which had a large flaming ‘X’ across the frame. “What are those for?”

“Looks like the Flagrate spell,” he observed. “Do you think maybe they forgot which door they’ve used?”

“Given that they’re identical? Yes, I’d say that’s accurate. But in Harry’s dreams he always went through-” she trailed off, striding the length of the weird black room to push the other door open. Behind her, Theo let the way out close but cast the Flagrate spell, only marking it with a single line.

He reached her where she stood on the threshold of the next room, which was full of desks facing a huge jar almost her height, and it was full of swirling, glittering wind.

Remembering that Harry’s dream had just taken him straight through to the door in here, Lian moved on. The next room was like unto a cathedral, but instead of rows upon rows of benches there were tall shelves lined with glass orbs. Inside was quiet...too quiet.  _ They’re not in here yet, _ she thought hopefully, a hope that was soon destroyed when the door to the circular room behind them gave way to five people.

“There they are!” Hermione said in exasperation. “This place is enormous, you wouldn’t believe—”

_ “This is it!”  _ Harry cried victoriously.  “This way!”  He led the others to the door that led to the cathedral, but both Lian and Theo stood firm, barring the way. “What are you doing? It’s just through that door.”

Wordlessly, Lian withdrew the mirror from her pocket. Sirius was mumbling curses under his breath; he and Snape had stopped arguing a while back. Shoving the mirror under Harry’s nose, she waited for him to add two and two together. At first, he frowned at her, then he looked down at what she was holding. “What is this?”

Lian  didn’t have to explain. At the sound of Harry’s voice, Sirius Black’s face materialized upon the mirror's surface. “Harry! What did I tell you about learning Occlumency?”

“S-Sirius?” Harry stammered, as the others clamored around him to confirm that it was in fact Sirius Black. “Where are you?”

“At present I’m on the landing, Snape just left me here tied to my darling mother’s portrait. Don’t speak too loudly or she’ll have another fit; she literally just shut up.”

Nobody spoke. Harry didn’t seem to be capable of speech or eye contact, Lian only watched as the green eyes betrayed the realization happening inside his brain. “You’re…you’re not-“

“Of course I’m being tortured Harry,” said Black cheekily. “Just not by Voldemort, by Dumbledore. His whole house arrest rule and whatnot. You need to be quick in making an exit, or I’ll come down there and get you myself, somehow—even if I have to drag Mum’s portrait with me. And don’t make too much noise, they might already know you’re there.”

“Of course we know you’re here,” said a harsh, drawling tone. A tall, hooded figure emerged from the corner of the room. He was wearing a mask, reminding Lian of a few slasher films Jason had shown her. She reflexively shoved the mirror back in her pocket, reaching for her wand, only to find it wasn’t there. Around her, the other five had taken out their wands and pointed it at the other hooded figures who were appearing all around the room with loud *CRACK*’s. Beside her, Theo was hesitating. “I’d put those away if I were you,” the first figure warned. “This  needn’t get ugly. We only require you to do one thing for us, Potter.”

Harry was glaring at the first figure with a kind of personal dislike.  _ He knows who’s under the mask. _ “Yeah? And what’s that?”

“Walk.” the first figure ordered, pointing to the door that led to the cathedral-like room. “Everything can be explained, all you have to do is cooperate.” 

Whether Harry was driven by curiosity or fear for his friends, what happened next was plain stupid. He walked on to the next room, where three hooded figures followed him. Lian shot Theo a look before she took off after them.

“Where you think you’re going?” grunted one of the cloaked men. He was rather large-bodied, and moved to intercept her, but Lian side-stepped him with ease. He chased her into the cathedral with its many rows and shelves, as she booked it down the aisle. 

The other three cloaked wizards--though Lian suspected at least one of them was a witch based on her gait--were just ahead with Harry in their midst. Lian didn't know what they'd lured him here for, but she did know they intended to harm or possibly kill him when their business concluded. She skidded to a halt about seven rows away and ducked left, surging past the weird orbs that lined the shelves. The big ape at her heels halted at the end of the row, his large girth incapable of following her. He shot a jinx at her quickly retreating back, which sliced through her jacket as she dodged into the aisle at the opposite end. 

Skipping six more rows, she pressed her back against row ninety-seven, sank to the floor and peered carefully down the shelves at where Harry stood, the three death eaters gathered around him. The first one was speaking again, his tone soft and pompous as one who felt they were better than others.  _ Now where have I met someone like that before, _ she thought bitterly. 

“Don't you want to know the reason they died, Potter?” She heard him say. “The answers are within your grasp. All you have to do...is give it to me.” She could also hear heavy breathing as the sumo wrestler made his way up the aisle towards the assembled group. He would warn them there was a stray running about. She had to act before that could happen. No wand, no plan; the only option remaining was to improvise.

Firstly, she removed her shoes and placed them against the wall. Then, making no sound against the floor, she crept down the row towards Harry. Two death eaters, the witch being one of them--her hip was jutting out as she waited for Harry to cooperate--had their backs towards her. Through the small gap between them, she could see Harry reaching towards a glass orb. The moment it was in his grasp, several things happened simultaneously. 

The big one huffed into their midst, trying to speak but was out of breath. The tall one hissed, “What do you want, Crabbe?” And the witch and the wizard in the row were knocked flat by something large with six legs. Harry yelled at the sight of the beast, running in the opposite direction. The beast pursued him with ease, allowing him to get ahead enough to run down the far aisle. At the end of the row, the beast paused long enough to knock shelves ninety-seven and ninety-six over. The domino effect was enough to prevent the death eaters from directly following, and under cover of the cascading orbs, Lian shifted back and ran after Harry. The idiot had gone in the opposite direction of the exit, and she watched his foot disappear into a door off to the right. 

“Harry!” she called, ducking into the next room with him. It was a brightly lit room, starkly contrasting the dim place they’d just escaped. 

“Lian! Did you see it, that thing just came out of nowhere and-” Harry’s eyes were wild with panic; he was clutching the orb in his left hand, his wand held loosely in his right. This Lian plucked from him with relative ease and pointed it at the door.  _ Colloportus! _ She then returned the wand to Harry. 

“We need to be smart, and quick if we’re going to get out of this in two pieces.” she said urgently.

“Where are the others? Are they alright?” Harry demanded.

“They’re in good hands,” she replied confidently. “Okay look, I’m faster than you,”  _ and more expendable, _ “and I don’t have a wand. Let me hold the orb thing--the one they want so badly? They didn’t see me, they won’t expect me to have it. And as long as they think you do, I’m about eighty percent certain they won’t kill you.” 

“Do not drop it,” Harry said sternly after silently agreeing with her. “It’s a prophecy about me and Voldemort. When we get out of here alive, I’ll want to hear it.” 

Lian took the prophecy, placing it in an inner pocket of her jacket. That way, if she needed to transform again she wouldn’t lose it. “Right. If you take that door,” she pointed the the right where there was a single black door. “You should be able to make your way back to the first room.”

“What about you?”

“I’m clever, I’ll think of something. Just be sure to lock the doors behind you.”

Harry moved to the far door, pausing to look back at her, hand on the knob. “Be careful. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

“You mean to try and nobly sacrifice myself so my friends have a chance at getting away?” She replied. “You got it.” She waited for him to leave first, then turned to the door on the opposite wall. Once on the other side, entering a room full of broken hourglasses and mirrors, she yelled loud enough for anyone within a three-room radius: “WHERE’S THE EXIT?!” in the best British accent she could muster. 

Shouts answered her immediately. “That way! We’ve got him now!”

Smiling, she shifted into the beast once again. She was faster in that form anyway, but the moment she touched down on all six paws, she could feel something was different this time. Whether because of the adrenaline pulsing through her veins or the fear that came with the situation she’d landed herself in, Lian felt her human consciousness losing its grip. The beast was demanding control now. What was it that Jake had said? ... _ the wizards who neglected their animal counterpart are equal to those people you hear about who inflict self-harm...You need to accept your other half, Jules, it is a part of who you are.  _ She had been so focused on anything but her secondary ability, that she’d fallen  out of balance with her Animagus form. Lian reached this conclusion seconds before she blacked out. 

Another door opened out into the room of broken things, revealing four death eaters. The Wampus cat turned to snarl viciously at them, before their battle began.


	30. Part Two: The Order of the Phoenix

“Lian?! Harry?!” Sirius was shouting at the top of his lungs.. The commotion caused his mother’s portrait to awaken and start shrieking. Tonks rushed up the staircase and forced the curtains to close. 

“What the blazes are you doing?” she hissed, staring at her 2nd cousin’s predicament. Snape was standing over him, his wand out. Glancing from one wizard to the other, she asked, “What happened?”

Snape curled his lip. “Black here was proving to be difficult.”

Sirius growled, his eyes not leaving the small mirror on the floor.

“What’s that, then?” 

“It’s-” Sirius tugged against the magical bindings to no avail. “-a two-way mirror. Harry fell for Voldemort’s trick and ran off to the department of mysteries.”

Tonks froze, looking at Snape for confirmation. “No… What are we doing waiting around here then?”

“One of my students is with them,” Tonks could only assume he meant a Slytherin. That American who called her Nymphadora over the holidays, likely. “If she can convince Potter to leave before the Dark Lord can reveal his plan in full, we may not need to charge in.”

“How’s she supposed to contact us, then?” she asked skeptically. “Is it her that’s got the other mirror? What if she drops it?”

“Patience, Tonks,” Snape snapped. He glanced at the large grandfather clock below and grimaced. “I must return to the castle; if Kowalski reports that she was unable to remove Potter in his ‘hero’s quest’, then you and as many Order members as you can muster should go to their aid.”

“What about Sirius?” asked Tonks, glancing at Sirius who was glaring up at Snape from his unfortunate circumstance. 

“He’ll stay here, if he know’s what’s good for him. But then, it might be too late to teach an old dog new tricks,” he sneered, before departing. 

Tonks watched him go, and then pulled her wand on Sirius. “I think I can unstick you, hold still-!”

“No! NO!-Honestly Tonks, that’s what you said over the summer to my mother’s portrait and we all know how that turned out.”

“What is this?” Harry’s voice sounded from the mirror.

Sirius dived for it, calling, “Harry! What did I tell you about learning Occlumency?”

“S-Sirius?” She heard Harry stammered in reply. “Where are you?”

“At present I’m on the landing, Snape just left me here tied to my darling mother’s portrait. Don’t speak too loudly or she’ll have another fit; she literally just shut up.”

Harry hesitated. “You’re…you’re not-“

“Of course I’m being tortured Harry,” said Sirius cheekily. Tonks knew he was trying to remain calm despite his fury and inability to escape. “Just not by Voldemort, by Dumbledore. His whole house arrest rule and whatnot. You need to be quick in making an exit, or I’ll come down there and get you myself, somehow—even if I have to drag Mum’s portrait with me.” Tonks smiled at that mental image. “And don’t make too much noise, they might already know you’re there.”

“Of course we know you’re here,” said a harsh, drawling tone. Suddenly the mirror went black, before winking out, and only Sirius’s reflection remained. 

“HARRY!” Sirius roared. He looked up at Tonks. “DON’T JUST STAND THERE!”

Properly galvanized, Tonks rushed down into the kitchen where she knew Remus, Mad-Eye and Kingsley had gathered whilst Snape and Sirius argued. “H-Ha-” she huffed, alerting the three men to her presence. “They got Harry!”

She hardly needed to say another word, the three of them were already crossing the kitchen, following her to the front door. Sirius was still yelling bloody murder on the landing, now accompanied once again by his mother. Tonks was actually beginning to see the resemblance between mother and son as Mad-Eye wrenched the door open, Kingsley right on his six. 

“REMUS! GET ME OUT OF THESE!” Sirius screamed. Remus hesitated, ushering Tonks ahead of him. She stepped out onto the front step, gave the gloomy interior one last glance before she disapparated, focused on the Ministry. 

She stumbled into the suspiciously empty atrium, before charging after Mad-Eye and Kingsley to the lower levels. A loud crack behind her signaled Remus’s arrival, and a glance back told her that he’d tried to free Sirius via Side-along apparition. It worked, but also succeeded in bringing along dear Walburga’s portrait.

Unhindered, Sirius ran after them, forcing himself and his mother into the lift, which rocketed down with a little encouragement from the shrill screeches of the mistress. The six of them burst out into the long passageway leading to the Department of Mysteries. 

Kingsley reached the door first, but Sirius forced his way to the front. The black circular room was filled with people already, three of which lay motionless on the floor. Walburga’s hellish wails startled the combatants, long enough for Tonks, Mad-Eye and Remus to make short work of the four death eaters that remained standing. 

Ron Weasley turned his wand on them, his arm shaking badly, part of his face covered in ugly boils and spots.Tonks couldn’t even see his left eye through it all.

Remus calmed him with a few words, while Kingsley inspected the fallen. One of them Tonks recognized as Hermione, while the boy lying beside her was unfamiliar. The death eater that lay near them turned out to be Elias Nott once his mask was removed. He’d been hit by a bone crunching curse, as evidenced by his sunken appearance. His death had been quick, but agonizing. She remembered studying it during her auror training. 

“WHERE’S HARRY?!” Sirius bellowed over the roar of his mother’s portrait. Tonks was pretty certain she’d abandoned the English language and was screaming in tongues. 

Ginny was gasping for air, clutching at her side. Tonks hurried over and assessed what was wrong with her--she’d cracked a rib. While Tonks pulled out her wand to fix it, she heard Mad-Eye and Sirius move into another room, taking Walburga’s mad screaming with them. 

“That better?” Tonks asked Ginny, who felt her side gingerly before nodding. The Lovegood girl was at her side in a second. “You hurt?”

The pale blonde shook her head. “I'm alright-one of them stepped on my ankle but I'm pretty sure it's just a sprain.” 

Tonks turned to Remus, who was helping Kingsley with the unconscious kids. “There's probably more where they came from. We should alert Dumbledore,” Remus nodded, pulling out his wand. 

“Go after Alastor and Sirius,” he said, already casting his wolf patronus. “Odds are they’re already in over their heads.”

“He was in over his head when he decided it was the opportune moment to go on an outing with his mother.” Tonks shot back as she headed towards the door Mad-Eye had disappeared through. “If you’ve a mind to catch up, just follow my great aunt’s yelling.”

After trying three to six different doors, Tonks finally happened upon the gruesome scene. She jumped into battle alongside Sirius, against dear aunt Bellatrix, who seemed more afraid of the portrait attached to Sirius’s back than anything else. Out of the corner of her eye, Tonks could see Mad-Eye dueling with Lucius Malfoy. In the center of the room, two death eaters lay in a pool of blood. When she caught sight of the girl lying in the center, Tonks almost vomited all over Walburga. 

Tonks realized that the girl must’ve taken out two death eaters on her own--though how, she couldn’t imagine. Firing another hex at Bellatrix, she ducked behind Walburga who was throwing insults in Latin to anyone who cared to listen. Bella fired a jet of red light at Sirius, who ducked in time for it to hit his mother squarely in the face.

“YOU EVIL AND CRUEL LITTLE GIRL, HOW DARE YOU!” Walburga wailed.

“YOU FOUL WOMAN YOU’RE ALREADY DEAD!” Bella yelled in return. She shot a blast of blue towards Tonks, who dodged behind a broken desk, which was incinerated moments later. She then sent a spell at Sirius, who was firing spell at Lucius Malfoy. Tonks raised her wand to protect him when the girl jumped to her feet and placed herself in front of Sirius. She was half covered in blood already, but when the spell collided with her, it was followed by an ugly squelch, and then a thump as something hit the floor. Bella stood frozen in casting stance, her hooded eyes wide and staring at the blood-stained girl who stood, defending Sirius and Walburga Black.

“. . .You. . .” Bella said in a carrying whisper. “It cannot be. . .You. . .how-”

Mad-Eye came out of nowhere and jinxed the shock out of Bella, knocking her flat across the room of broken things. He, Tonks and Sirius turned to look at the girl, who had fallen to her knees, hugging her arms to herself. Her face was screwed up and her mouth open in a terrified, agonizing scream. It even shut Walburga up. 

Sirius attempted to comfort her when a sound like thunder went off above them. He jumped up and began charging away through the doors, calling for Harry desperately. Mad-Eye was busy summoning cords to bind the death eaters to do much, so Tonks conjured up a stretcher and helped the girl onto it. When she rolled over so Tonks could see her face, it confirmed the young auror’s suspicions. Lian Kowalski lay shivering, her eyes wide and staring at something that no one else could see. 

“He didn’t come. . .” she mumbled softly. Tonks gave her left hand a squeeze. 

“You’re safe now. You’re going to be alright.” She watched Lian slip her hand of out of the grasp, reaching into her right coat pocket, withdrawing a glass orb filled with white smoke. Tonks gasped. “Is that-?”

“The prophecy. . .about Harry and the Dark Lord. . .” she gave a gurgling laugh. “All this for a stupid poem that might decide the future of the wizarding world. Hope it was worth it.”

“I promise you it was,” said Tonks, taking the prophecy from her and silently praying to Merlin that she was right in saying so. “You’ve lost quite a lot of blood; you need to stay conscious for me. Here, tell me about your family. . .” She kept the girl talking as she floated her out of the maze of rooms and into the first, circular one where more aurors had arrived. She gave them directions back to where they would find Mad-Eye squatting over four more death eaters, just waiting for their arrest. 

Dumbledore had arrived in time to protect Harry from Voldemort, who had come to the Ministry after one of his followers panicked and summoned him. Probably Rookwood or one of the Lestranges. Eleven death eaters arrested, one killed, all wounded. 

Tonks had to admit, Harry picked tough friends. Last she saw him, he was embracing Sirius while Walburga cried over them. Apparently, the dark magic that had been cast and intended for Sirius had damaged her portrait beyond repair. Tonks lost track of Lian’s body after the backup arrived, and Hermione and the boy never woke up, but Madam Pomfrey was confident in her abilities to heal them. 

She would later give the prophecy to Remus, not knowing herself what to do with it. If anyone was to be trusted with something that important and dangerous, it’d be him. 

They evaded the reporters from  _ the Daily Prophet _ with relative ease, despite their own injuries. Personally, Tonks had earned a dislocated shoulder and a large burn down her right side. Kingsley had momentarily lost the ability to speak, while Remus attempted to aid Sirius in finally escaping from under the shadow of his mother. (Tonks still couldn’t believe he ran the length of the Ministry with her; now that they’d survived, she made a mental note to tease him about it later.) Her old mentor, Mad-Eye, had lost his fake leg during his battle with Lucius. It had been completely obliterated; apparently Malfoy had tried to blow up his real leg but missed. They sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, with the constant sound of Remus and Sirius bickering over which spell was best, occasionally with horrible suggestions from Walburga. (“Cut off his buttocks, werewolf! That way at least he’ll never ride that awful muggle machinery again!”) It was Kreacher’s entrance into their midst that made the air suddenly as tense as it had been in battle.

The house elf stared up at his Master in shock, his upper lip trembling. “M-Master Black has returned. . .M-”

“You.” Sirius turned  on the elf, his voice dangerously low. “Come with me.” He hiked up his trousers and waddled from the room, the elf and his mother in tow. If Tonks and the other three men thought that they wouldn’t overhear the words Sirius had in store for Kreacher, they were very mistaken.

Sounding from about halfway up the Manor, the tirade began. Tonks heard a string of words that reminded her just how colorful the Black family could be. Sirius had been scared for Harry, and stressed with his house arrest; she sensed that Kreacher had usually been his outlet before, but that was nothing compared to this.

“I’d better go and stop him,” Remus said, moving to the door.

“From what?”

“Killing Kreacher,” came the reply, and then he too had disappeared upstairs. Tonks went to follow after, but her burned posterior prevented her from making very sudden movements and planted her back down. 

“Let them handle it,” said Mad-Eye gruffly. He’d transfigured one of the most noble and ancient chairs of Black into a new prosthetic, and was currently fitting it to his stub. “You remember the potion required to fix that burn of yours?”

Tonks nodded. “Not likely to forget it--I had to take the practical potions exam twice.”

“Then get to it,” he growled. “You’re no use to us if you can’t move.”

Grimacing, she got to her feet and moved to the cabinet where the Order had started stocking up on ingredients for occasions such as this. She’d nearly finished the cooling solution by the time Remus and Sirius made a re-entrance. Sirius was wearing different clothes, and he was noticeably free from his mother’s portrait. 

“Don’t tell me I’m going to find a pair of trousers hanging from your mother’s picture,” said Tonks, fixing Sirius with an exasperated expression.

“Alright, I won’t tell you that.” he replied, taking a seat across from Kingsley, who was beginning to croak again. “We just heard from Dumbledore. The Ministry’s going to take a closer look at my death sentence. I might even get cleared of all charges.”

“How’d he convince Fudge to go and do that?”

“Because Fudge’s term is up,” Mad-Eye growled. “Or it will be after this fiasco; turning a blind eye over the perils of an entire nation--absolutely no one is going to want to keep him in office after tonight.”

“Who’d you think’ll replace him?” Tonks asked, adding the final ingredient with a wince. Remus crossed the room to stir it counter clockwise for her, despite her silent protests. “Surely not that Umbridge woman?”

“Oh no, she’s being suspended--and also admitted into St. Mungo’s for now.” said Sirius, a wicked grin spreading across his mouth. “Apparently she marched into centaur territory and pissed off the entire herd. Dumbledore was the only one-” he drew air quotes around the word, “-’decent’ enough to go and get her.”

“What about the children?” Kingsley finally managed to ask. “The boy with the crushed skeleton?”

Sirius frowned. “Dumbledore didn’t say. Ginny and the Lovegood girl were fixed up immediately--Pomfrey knows her stuff. Ron’s boils are being stubborn, and Hermione’s condition would’ve been fatal if it had been properly cast. Still, she’s got a long way to go.”

“And the American?” Kinsley asked, while Remus handed a flask of the solution to Tonks. “The girl you found in the bowels of the Department?”

Sirius’s expression paled. “I’ve never seen someone stupid enough to stand up to Bellatrix without a wand. For someone she hardly knows. If she dies after tonight. . .I’ll never forgive myself.”

“If she dies, it will have been bravely. Which might bring her family some amount of comfort,” said Mad-Eye, taking a swig from his hip flask. “When Black and I arrived in the room she was still fighting. Lestrange and Crabbe were down already, bleeding out on the floor. Our arrival startled her and made her lose focus.”

“You brought bleeding Walburga with you,” Tonks stated fairly. “Who wouldn’t lose focus? How was she even holding her ground?”

“Remember her little brother?” Sirius asked. “The boy who came to dinner as a shepherd?”

“Vividly.”

“Evidently, prowess in transfiguration runs in the family,” Mad-Eye stated. “When we found her and engaged in battle, she was scaring the liquids out of the pair of them, transformed into this huge beast with six legs.” He sighed. “For all we know, the objects and interior of that room might have been in tact before we arrived. In anycase, we distracted her and Bellatrix hit her with the spell that changes you back from your animagus form, while Lucius hit her with a curse and she collapsed immediately.”

Tonks felt sick again, and not just because the cooling solution normally needed to be taken with food. What had possessed her to believe that taking on Voldemort’s most devout followers was her job? “Has she said anything?”

“Not from what I’ve heard. She was conscious enough to make demands about what happened to her body, and then faded shortly after.” came Sirius’s depressing reply. 


	31. The Aftermath

**June 19th, 1996**

 

It was the scream that woke me. The scream that didn’t exist in this time. My eyes opened upon the hospital wing; I was propped up against several pillows, so instead of facing the ceiling, I could gaze across at a curtain. But I knew exactly where I was, disoriented as my brain felt. I cleared my throat, but before I could attempt to call the nurse, the curtain split open and I was faced with the last two people I anticipated. 

“THEODORE IGNATIUS NOTT!” Daphne bellowed once she laid eyes on my face. “HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME WORRY ABOUT YOU!”

As she charged the bed, I instinctively went for my wand and cast a shield charm before she could touch me. Behind her, Draco entered through the curtain’s gap. “Lay off, Greengrass he’s clearly unhinged.” He then turned a cold stare on me, one I knew he reserved for people that held a healthy amount of his hate. “Care to explain yourself,  _ Nott _ ?”

_ Ooh, surnames is it? Suddenly I'm in the doghouse. Bite me.  _ “I don't, but you wouldn't be here if it wasn't important that I do.” I replied, starting to feel an ache across my chest the longer I remained conscious.  _ What happened to me? _

“Important?” Draco gave a harsh, mirthless laugh. “It's only the small matter of my father being sent to prison. Potter I slightly understand but why in the world were you there last night?” 

My head felt heavy, and my memory was sluggish and hazy. What month was it? “Honestly I can't remember,” I admitted softly. “Not a thing.” 

Daphne, who was silently fuming at my side, reached for something on the bedside table. I went to turn my head but found that my neck wouldn't respond. I couldn't move my head--it was this that alerted me to the fact that my head and neck were heavily bandaged. She shoved something under my nose, indicating with every signal in her arsenal that she was very cross with me. “Madam Pomfrey left this for you when you woke up.”

“Mm.”  _ I might need a second opinion on that.  _ “And where is Madam Pomfrey now?”

“She went to find Snape,” said Draco. “He’s been filling out orders for her since last night. Granger was hit with an unknown curse and it's all they can do to keep her alive,” he added quietly, and I couldn't tell if he was hopeful or concerned...I mean, it had to be hope, right?  _ Right? _

“Do they know what happened to me?” I asked, barely moving my lips, unwilling to risk Daphne shoving the smoking potion down my throat. 

“Your diagnosis was inconclusive; it could’ve been a spell, or possibly someone caused you to fall a great distance, nearly shattering every bone in your skeleton. “ The three of us winced involuntarily at Daphne’s description. That did not sound pleasant in the slightest. I’d hardly been in the hospital wing for a cough; how could I have been so reckless?

“Where’s Kowalski?” I asked at length. I didn’t miss the silent glance between my old friends. “What?”

“Um, you’d better drink this. Madam Pomfrey said it would help clear your mind and then about ten minutes after you woke up you needed to take a dose of Skele-gro.” Daphne explained. “Open up.”

I wanted to duck my head away from her and the potion she held, but once again, I couldn’t move my head. “Not until you tell me where-”

“Malfoy, pinch his nose,” Daphne instructed. Draco moved to the other side of the bed and did as requested. I glared at both of them before finally relenting and opening my mouth to breath. At once, Daphne had me chugging the entire contents of the flask. “There, that wasn’t so bad.”

_ Easy for you to say,  _ I wanted to fire back at her, but I was slightly hindered by the slight buzz that took place in my prefrontal cortex. The faces of my friends winked out of my vision, as my minds eye took over. It was very much like my trip into the Pensieve, only I was showing myself my own memories, much clearer than they had ever been before. I was beginning to remember the events of last night…

_ Lian had sent me a last, sharp look. I knew she was trying to tell me something, but in the next second she’d dodged around Mr. Crabbe and charged on into the next room after Harry. She was insane, I knew, because she’d left her wand here. Well, I say left, but the truth is she’d dropped it in the lift without noticing, so I picked it up and held onto it. I didn’t think for a second that we’d get separated. After she and Crabbe had left, one of the death eaters had locked the door that let to the prophecy room with a swift jab. I looked around at the other four, who watched this happen in dismay. Well, Lovegood still looked a little absent but I’m sure she was upset too.  _

_ “What do you want with Harry?” Wealsey demanded, his ears turning a violent shade of red and blending in with his hair. He’d taken out his wand and was pointing it at the nearest cloaked figures, and the other idiots had followed suit. I kept my hands where anyone could see them-clearly not a threat. I think one of the death eaters answered, I wasn’t paying attention. I was trying to understand what Lian expected me to do. Dissecting her behaviour had always been a challenge, tonight wasn’t going to be any different.  _

_ She’d insisted that she needed to keep Harry safe, should this very situation arise. It wasn’t even a question, it was like she was following...an order.  _

_ In that second, I knew that Harry Potter was going to live. I didn’t know the details, but it they weren’t important. Lian Kowalski was going to protect him, by any means necessary. Which left the rest of us surrounded by eight hooded, and dangerous wizards--not so safe. She wanted me to do something. I wasn’t so good with dueling, I wouldn’t get out unscathed if I suddenly started shooting spells; and besides, that wasn’t the Slytherin way. They were anticipating a random burst of spells, and they would be prepared to shut any such action down by any means necessary. I had a plan, well, half a plan.  _

_ “This was a very good plan,” I said off-handedly. About twelve pairs of eyes landed on me. “Luring Potter here; I’ll wager no one predicted how many idiots were willing to follow him. What I don’t understand is how the house-elf knew to lie at the right moment.” _

_ “Someone did their homework,” growled one of the death eaters; pretty sure it was Macnair.  _

_ “Anyway, what’s it matter how, boy?” another death eater, probably one of the Lestrange brothers, said. “It worked, didn’t it? And now Potter’s going to have to give in, or we lay waste to his little entourage.”  _

_ I shrugged. I had more to say, but it was at that moment that there was a thunderous roar echoing in the next room, shortly followed by loud crashes and the recognizable sound of glass shattering. That also was followed by the sound of wails from hundreds of voices.  _

_ “What the-” Lestrange crossed the room and threw the door open, before slamming it shut again immediately. “Something’s wrong. You three-” he pointed at the nearest men in cloaks. “Go after them.” They approached the door and he barked at them. “Not this way--it’ll be covered in broken glass and wood by now--there are other doors that lead in there, go on!” _

_ Three left, leaving five against five. “NOW!” Granger cried, and all at once they shouted a variety of spells and hexes upon the cloaked figures, before bolting towards the only unguarded door--the one that led back into the circular, black room. The spells used were not strong enough to silence their foes, who merely stumbled back--or in the case of Rookwood, yelled as several slimey, green bats began attacking his face. I ran after the group, sending a few defensive spells behind me. In the circular room is where it got messy. The five death eaters pursued and locked the doors around the walls to prevent a further chase scene from unfolding. Spells flew from both sides. I saw Granger get hit by a shot of purple flame from Dolohov--who’s mask had fallen off after the she-Weasley hit him with a few hexes. Granger emitted a soft cry of surprise before she collapsed on the floor in a heap. I was closest to her, and with her wild hair all over her face, she could’ve easily been Lian. Following an instinct I did not know I possessed, I took a protective stance over her body, fending off any spell that flew our way.  _

_ “BLOOD-TRAITOR!” someone screamed at me, and I watched a jet of light shoot in my direction. I put up a shield charm, but the curse slipped through my barrier like it didn’t exist.  _

_ “NO!” one of the other cloaked figures cried. I knew who it was immediately, but it wasn’t possible that he should be here. He leapt in front of the spell. His body crashed into mine under the impact of the spell that now hit the both of us.  _

_ I remember lying between him and Granger. I remember feeling every nerve in my body commit suicide. I remember hearing  _ _ a loud, wailing scream that cut through the impenetrable gloom that was trying to melt my brain. I remember shouting, from new voices I didn’t recognize.  _

“Theo?” Daphne’s voice broke the trance, bringing me back to the hospital wing. “It’s time to take your skele-gro.”

I choked it down, coughed as it burned its way through my body, then took a shuddering breath. 

“Do you remember now?” asked Draco, obviously knowing the answer. “Did you see what they did?”

“They?” I repeated.

“The aurors!” Draco snapped impatiently. “They arrested eleven people last night--and you were there, so tell me what happened! Which one of them died?”

I winced. “If they haven’t made a statement, then it is none of your  damn business.” I tried to sit up but of course it didn’t work. “Now tell me what you  _ do _ know. What happened to Kowalski?”

“I think you should rest a bit, the Skele-gro will start to hurt in a bit and sleeps the best way to-” Daphne began to back up quickly, a contrast to her bold entrance. “We’ll visit you after din-”

“If you leave now I’ll tell your parents the thing you’re afraid to,” I warned softly. Daphne stopped on the edge of the curtain, meanwhile Malfoy hadn’t moved from his chair. They exchanged a look again.

“You really didn’t see? In your memories, I mean?” Daphne whispered. 

“Obviously not. She was nowhere near when I got injured--if I have to bloody ask one more time I’m going to start using this.” I brandished my wand at them, ignoring the pain that shot through my arm. 

“Calm down, and put that away,” Draco reached over and plucked it from my hand, placing it out of my reach. “Daphne’s right, you need to rest.”

I uttered a few curses I’m not terribly proud of, and glared up at my oldest friend. At present, there wasn’t much I could do; granted I would do so when I healed. Their behavior puzzled me-whatever they knew they didn’t want to share it with me. I hadn’t seen so much dancing around since over a year ago at the Yule Ball. 

“Please, Theo,” Daphne begged. “Please just rest for a bit...we’ll tell you anything when you wake up but for now...you need to let yourself recover.”

“Is she hurt?” I pressed. 

“Theo-”

“Is she alive?” 

Both Daphne and Draco released a slow exhale, and then Draco finally answered. “We don’t know. We saw them bring you and Granger and the rest in here--Potter never turned up and neither did Kowalski.” He swallowed as he paused. Something in his grey eyes told me that he was withholding information.

“And?”

Daphne spoke up for him. “And we may have overheard Snape talking to a few adults from America. One of them was definitely Lian’s mother.” She bit her lip, casting a slightly pitying, mostly frightened gaze over me. “We tried asking Snape about her but he sent us away.” 

“On that happy note,” said Draco quietly, but I was beyond listening to either of them at that point. What had happened last night? Draco waved his wand over me and soon enough I was out. I would later be grateful for the enchanted sleep, because there was no way I would’ve relaxed enough to rest. 

It did allow me to dream though. It was strange too, because I normally didn’t dream. I told myself that I never dreamed before in my life but that was a lie; I dreamed a lot when I was younger, back when Mother was alive. 

In the vision that came over me, I was back in the Department of Mysteries. I was watching the battle as though an observer, not a participant. I moved through the jinxes and bodies as though they weren’t solid, merely images on display. I stepped over Granger, myself, and his body. I moved through a hex from Macnair and opened the first door I came upon. It led me down a narrow passageway, that opened out into a large room filled with broken glass and varied, destroyed objects. No one was inside, but the room bore the marks of an intense battle. Traces of dark magic could be found along the floor and the walls. In the center of the room was a dark puddle of fresh blood. I tried to move on from the room but every door I opened led me back to that spot. I couldn’t leave no matter how hard I tried. This was my answer. This was the only answer. It didn’t suddenly make sense, but it wasn’t going away either. I approached the puddle and peered into it, slightly surprised to find a face staring back at me. It wasn’t mine, it was Lian’s; and while my face felt relaxed and relatively unused, hers was scrunched up, her mouth open wide in a screech I couldn’t hear, her eyes shut to the horror of whatever she was experiencing. 

I felt thoroughly unrested by the time the enchantment wore off and I was allowed to wake. 

-

Potter came by on Monday morning, if only to visit with his friends. This I knew because I could hear them chatting away beyond my curtain. Granger read aloud the newspaper article detailing in the events from Thursday night. Apparently the Dark Lord had revealed himself to the world, forcing everyone to accept that he was back and rising in power. 

Madam Pomfrey came in to remove my bandages and test my reflexes. The spell that had been intended for me fully, only managed to do half the damage it was intended. If he hadn’t jumped in front of me, I’d definitely would’ve died. Instead, nearly all the bones from my ribcage on down decided to break in several pieces. The nurse assured me that I would make a full recovery over the summer, but in the meantime I would remain frail and sore. Just what every sixteen year old boy wants to hear.

After she said I could go, I did, leaving without saying a word to Potter and the rest. I did count heads, and sure enough, Lovegood, Granger, Weasley and Weasley were all present; which did nothing to calm my troubled mind. Did they deserve to die? Of course not. Would I trade their lives for Lian’s? . . .of course. 

I marched straight into Snape’s office, without knocking or announcement of any kind. It was there that I was met with three adults that were not the Head of my House. They looked around at me, two women and a man. 

“Sorry to intrude,” my upbringing seized the better of me and began to spout manners before I could chicken out and run. “I was looking for Professor Snape.”

“He said he’d be back soon,” said the man, in what was unmistakably an American accent. “You’re not intruding; if anything we’re the intruders. You’re welcome to wait for him here, if you’d like.”

“Mr...Kowalski?” I asked before I could stop myself.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

One of the women tapped his arm. “Don’t be rude, David. He’s probably one of her friends.” I looked at her. She had Lian’s eyes, (or maybe Lian had hers,) her hair was long and dark and she had an athletic build, like her daughter. 

“Not quite, Mrs. Kowalski,” I said to her. “Lian insisted we weren’t friends.”

The other woman, slender with honey-colored hair, laughed softly. “Then you must be a good one.” She extended her hand. “May Kowalski. I’m Lian’s aunt. Who might you be?”

I gulped. How could these people find the strength to be polite at a time like this? “My name is Theodore Nott.” my eyes swept over the three of them briefly before I looked at the floor. “I am so sorry for your loss.”  _ I shouldn’t have said that; now they’re going to cry and I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do when people do that. _

“Our loss?” repeated Mrs. Kowalski. I met her gaze. “What are you talking about; didn’t anybody tell you?”

“Huh?”

“Well they wouldn’t, it only just happened, Amaya,” said the aunt, watching me closely. “Kid, she’s not dead. Calm down.”

I don’t know what my face looked like in that moment but apparently it wasn’t a neat sight for the Americans. “But… no one had seen her, and she wasn't in the hospital wing with the rest…”

“Well she wouldn't be,” Mrs. Kowalski sniffed. “Her condition is hardly within that nurse’s criteria.”

“She means that no one in the hospital wing would know what to do to help her.” The aunt clarified for me. “Fortunately the little smart-aleck was conscious enough to ask for me.”

“Was?” I repeated numbly, not daring to hope. 

“Hold on,” Mr. Kowalski was giving me a funny look. “Were you there the night it happened?”

“Can I see her?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could think of a better way to say it. 

“Sure thing, if you don't mind traveling across the Atlantic first.” He replied, smiling slightly. “She'll wake up at home, the way God intended. We stayed behind to pick up the paperwork.”

“What?” I muttered, glancing at the huge file upon Snapes desk for the first time. 

“I mean, no offense kid, but I gotta protect my family. I can do a much better job if we’re all on the same continent.” He went on bluntly. 

My brain took a second to function. Paperwork...protect...they weren't going to allow Lian to stay at school here. This led to me thinking of several ways to not let that happen. I could grab her file and make a run for it-I knew the secret passages better than most and these guests wouldn't stand a chance. I could run to intercept Professor Snape before he returned and argue with him about it. I could tell Lian’s father that if his daughter were here right now she’d fight tooth and claw to remain at this school. Anything she'd done this last year, questionably or nobly, was to ensure she stayed at Hogwarts. Granted, I never asked for the real reason, but I chose to believe that her opinion wouldn't change overnight. 

“Kid? You still with us?” They were all watching me curiously. I cleared my throat, raising my gaze to Mr. Kowalski’s. He was a big, barrel-chested man with large, worn hands, indicating that he used them for work, whatever that was. His arms and legs were thick, indicating that he could snap me like a twig if I provoked him. He had scruff, but not a full beard, telling me that normally he shaved but the weekend must’ve distracted him from his usual routine. His hair was dark and slightly disheveled, though it was so curly the casual observer could barely tell. He had deep blue eyes, and his face at rest was rather imposing and stern. He couldn’t have been more intimidating if he bore the Dark Mark. 

“All due respect sir,” I began shakily. “But I don’t think Lian wants to leave Hogwarts.” I expected cliche answers like,  _ I’m her father, I know what’s best;  _ or  _ I’ll have to disagree with you, young man;  _ or  _ None of your business, Kid! _

“And what evidence would you have of that, Mr. Nott?” he replied diplomatically, as though we were equals, politely disagreeing over proper potion ingredients. I also noticed he used my proper title, an action likely brought on by my use of the word ‘sir’.

“Assuming I have my facts right,” I continued in that same, calm tone. “She’s been trying to get into Hogwarts since before her magic turned up. In my ten months of knowing her, she’s never struck me as the type to get knocked down and simply give up. Whatever injuries she is currently suffering, I doubt she’d allow it to keep her from returning to this school.”

The aunt was grinning, but I couldn’t be sure why. Mrs. Kowalski was watching her husband, a certain gleam in her eyes. Mr. Kowalski gave a small sigh as he gazed at me. At length, he said, “Spoken like a true ally.”

-

Trunks locked and loaded, students stuffed onto the single platform in Hogsmeade; the term had finally come to a close, and it was time for all of us to go home. The end of year feast had come with a few not-so-surprises: The High Inquisitor would not be making a comeback in September, on the contrary she would spend the majority of her summer in St. Mungo’s making a recovery. Dumbledore had returned to the school to reclaim his position as Headmaster, and the post for DADA teacher remained wide open, yet again. Lian’s parents hadn’t given me a straight answer over whether they’d allow Lian to return in the fall, but that wasn’t my main concern. My issue was that even though I knew she was alive, I didn’t know what state she was in. What kind of condition was beyond the knowledge of Madam Pomfrey’s healing abilities? What kind of ailment required such a specific person, rather than the room's full of Healers in St. Mungo’s?

By Merlin’s beard, perhaps Lian would tell me when I saw her again. 

I joined my friends in Compartment J, my eyes lingering on the window seat where I’d first laid eyes on Lian Kowalski. 

_ “There you are Theo!” said Daphne brightly, waving from her place between Zabini and a girl I’d never seen before. “I thought you’d gotten lost.” _

_ Zabini looked terribly grumpy as I moved past him, and only grunted a greeting. “Nott.” _

_ “Zabini.” I replied, my eyes glancing over the new girl. “Who’s this?” _

_ “She hasn’t been quite forthcoming-” Daphne began to say, but was interrupted by Zabini. _

_ “Bloody mind-reader, that’s who.” he growled, partially explaining why he looked upset. It was her fault, whoever she was.  _

_ The stranger gave a false laugh. “Hardly, I assure you. My name is Lian Kowalski, and you don’t recognize me because I’m transferring to Hogwarts from another school.” _

She’d been reading the newest edition of Newton Scamander’s book,  **Modern Magizoology** .  _ Her Uncle, _ I reminded myself quietly, taking my usual seat opposite it. I glared at Daphne for a brief moment when she sat across from me but couldn’t hold a grudge against her. As the train pulled away from Hogsmeade, I could’ve sworn I saw a student still standing on the platform, alone. But the steam engine gathered speed before I could be certain.

Only three hours into the trip did something interesting occur. Nearly everyone was sulking, the weight of the future and what it meant hanging over their heads. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to going home either; I had a funeral to plan, undergo a certain amount of therapy after the spell I survived, and find a way across the Pacific. I was going to be very busy. While I was lost in thought, there came a loud rapping at the window. We all jumped and looked around, and Pansy screamed when she laid eyes on the bald eagle that was gliding along the train. In its talons  it clutched a roll of parchment. I opened the window and the enormous bird tucked its wings into its side and dove into the compartment. He shifted into a boy in seconds, landing on trainer-clad feet, scroll in hand.

I recognized him immediately. The boy with the musical letter. Lian’s animagus friend. What was his name again? Jason. 

He sized up Draco and Zabini before shaking his head, tutted at Crabbe and Goyle before rounding on me. “Yeah, it’s gotta be you. Theo Nott, am I right?” He shoved the scroll under my nose before I could confirm. Arrogant little twit. 

“What’s this?” I asked, taking the parchment from him. 

“Little note from three guesses who,” Jason replied with a knowing grin.  _ Little? _ I scoffed silently, judging the thickness of the scroll. 

“Why you?”

“Eh, she wasn’t sure if your mail order system was still being watched or not, so on the off-chance that this would get intercepted, I volunteered.” he said easily, winking at  Daphne,  whose nose turned bright pink. As Jason turned to say farewell to the rest of the astonished group, I raised a single eyebrow at her, determined to get answers from her later. “Feel free to drop by Manhattan, next time you’re on my side of the pond!” he proclaimed, before jumping out the window. He shifted into an eagle about half way through his fall and shot into the sky with a load of unnecessary flare. 

Glancing around at the faces in the compartment as I closed the window, I wondered if that guy was aware of the type of people he’d just invited ‘over’. Draco looked properly speechless, it was how I pictured him if one day Goyle decided to become a ballerina. 

Zabini nodded at the scroll in my lap. “What’s she say?”

_ Right. _ I unrolled the parchment cautiously; the last time Jason had delivered a letter it had burst into raucous song. 

 

_ To my ally, _

_ Hello. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there after the Ministry. I think I owe you an explanation more than anyone else. I told you about Umbridge blackmailing me, but I never told you about the new order I’d received. We were sort of avoiding each other around Christmas time anyway, so… _

_ After checking out of St. Mungo’s (I never thanked you for that either, by the way. Send me a bill or I’ll send you Belters until the day you die) it was arranged that my brother and I stay at a secret location until the holidays were over with. I received a visit from Dumbledore while there, and was informed that he knew about my situation. He had a counter-offer, you see, he knew it was only a matter of time before the Minister and that pink abomination found a way to unseat him as the Headmaster. He requested that I continue playing my role as Umbridge’s agent, enough so that I could fool her into putting more trust into me. It worked obviously, as she elected me as Captain of her Horrible Squad.  _

_ Umbridge wanted me to keep a close eye on Harry, Dumbledore, and encourage anyone around me that they were mad liars and that they should all put their faith in the Ministry.  _

_ Dumbledore required that I protect Harry from himself. He tried to arrange for him to learn how to defend himself, but he was afraid that the connection the Dark Lord held over him would prove to be too strong; and he was right, as we both saw.  He wanted me to help defend the school when he was gone. He asked if I could ‘rally his students, when they are unsure where to stand’. That one didn’t make sense until now.  _

“Well?” Draco pressed, trying to look over my shoulder at Lian’s words. “What’s she saying?”

“Hang on,” I replied softly. The next part was basically addressed to the whole group but I wanted to read it in private first. 

_ A war is coming to the Wizarding world, and we all need to decide which cause we believe in. I don’t know about Dumbledore vs. Voldemort; that looks like an older argument that I don’t care to see the result of-but I care what happens to the people I want to protect. Not because anyone told me I had to, but because I chose them. Like I chose you and everyone in Slytherin. I want to protect you. The last ten months, I didn’t see a bunch of ruthless, cruel teenagers  _ _ hell- _ _ bent on being death eaters; I saw people with true souls, sharp minds, and practical actions. I think when you’re frightened, your instinct is to kick back with all you’ve got. I think when it comes down to it, you’ll all do what you think is right, to save those you’ve chosen to protect. Family. Friends. Allies. You’re all stupidly loyal, in that regard. But I worry that you haven’t been given all the facts. As you are, most of you believe that Muggles are the enemy, that they are tainting the good wizarding bloodlines and making the magical claim on the world weaker as the generations go on. You choose to believe this, and that’s okay. You can keep believing that, or you can stop sneering at my words and actually try to believe something new.  _

_ It doesn’t matter to me what you all think; I believe I made that quite clear in the beginning.  I think I should say a few things that might blow your minds, though. You like to be informed, don’t you? _

_ Merlin wrote a few books on the matter of magical blood; you won’t find those in your family library because it’s the one teaching by that marvelous man that no one talks about much. I covered the subject in fourth year for a History of Magic report; and it was the best decision I ever made in that class. Merlin was researching how muggleborns came to be, and oddly enough, he chose to compare the study to werewolves.  _

_ Werewolves are looked down upon in wizarding society, but none more so than those that were born, not bitten. Who would ever dare to breed such a monstrous creation, right? Merlin compared born werewolves to pureblood wizards. They were taught to believe that they were better just because they happened to be born a certain way, much like born werewolves were taught that they were disgusting, just because of something they couldn’t help. Before either were born, they had no say in their circumstances. If purebloods were taught from the first day they opened their eyes and ears that they were less than the dust of the earth, they’d believe it.  _

_ In my home, we never talked about blood status. I didn’t even know what that phrase meant until I was ten, and by then I didn’t really care. I’ve always looked at people for who they choose to be, not how they were born. Theo, you’ve seen what I can do more than most; would you ever say that I was less powerful because my blood isn’t pure? If Hermione Granger was born a Malfoy she’d be just as skilled and powerful as she is now. In case you’re still confused: blood doesn’t matter. _

 

I squinted at the edge of the page, where a drop of dried blood had been imprinted. I suppose that was one way to make a point.

 

_ I digress. On the topic of the approaching war, let me tell you what I believe. I believe in you. I believe in people, magical or not. I believe in life, and light magic, not whatever dark curse struck me on Thursday night in that retarded Ministry.  _

_ I heard about your father, and I am sorry for your loss.  _

_ I know you spoke to my parents, and I know they weren’t exactly supportive of my future. Too bad I’m a legal adult and am quite capable to make my own decisions by now.  _

_ You’ll see me again.  _

_ Lian  _

 

I finished the letter with several mixed feelings stirring around inside my chest. 

“Hm.” Draco grunted beside me, having read everything without my permission. “Does she say which books by Merlin?”

Giving him a surprised glance, I unrolled the last bit of the parchment. In Lian’s handwriting was inscribed, ‘ **Secrets of Excalibur** ’, ‘ **Magi in Sanguinem** ’, and ‘ **Lupus est Natus, et Veneficus** ’.

Draco copied down the titles, his brow furrowed. The rest of them were watching the pair of us carefully, if not apprehensively. Well, if a purist like Draco was willing to listen, perhaps they would also.  As Lian’s letter was shared throughout the compartment, and the others made their various opinions on her words, whether verbally like Zabini and Pansy, or silently like the rest; I watched the countryside roll by. 

_ You’ll see me again, _ she’d promised. When?

“You know,” Draco muttered so only I could hear him. “My family owns an estate in SoHo. . .” I gave him a sideways glance, raising my eyebrows a fraction. He was pretending to read a novel he’d pulled from his luggage, his lips barely moving as he continued to speak. “I bet I could find a reason to visit over the summer. . .borrowing a few of Merlin’s books, for instance.”

I returned to gazing out the window, dipping my head ever so slightly.  _ So maybe it won’t be a terrible summer holiday after all. _

 

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


	32. Summer, 1990

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bonus story--recounting both what I imagine the American school Ilvermorny to be like, and Lian's first year at school. It answers a few questions about her character and past that might have arisen, and gives important insights into her future actions. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a prequel, but one that is only interesting after you know Lian Kowalski. I present to you all:  
> THE LAST WISH

The city apartment building was hardly anything to brag about, let alone look at; so none of the businessmen and women paid it any attention as they passed by on the street. Even the dealers and hoodlums would avoid the burnt and crumbling structure, almost as if it were haunted...or didn't exist.

For those who could actually see the building for what it really was, they could count themselves lucky that they were not inside at that very moment because someone had cranked the radio to its loudest volume.  The townhome had been in the Strother family for half a century. It was used as a summer home until Amaya Strother moved to the upper east side sans graduation from the institute. There she settled and began to raise a family with her husband, David.

Amaya staggered out of the master bedroom and pounded on the door to her daughter’s shared room. “Julianne! Julianne you open this door this very minute!”

Whether or not her eldest child could actually hear her over the static-ridden tune of Led Zeppelin, the door gave way and she was met with the smiling face of her youngest child, Seraphina. She was wearing the largest pair of fuzzy pink earmuffs Amaya had ever laid her eyes on, and apparently she couldn’t hear the dangerously loud radio at all. “G’morning mommy!”

Amaya grimaced and gave her a peck on the forehead. Then, advancing into the room, she silenced the noisy contraption with a wave of her wand. “Mo-om!” her eldest whined.

“Juli-anne!”`Amaya replied in the same tone. “What have I told you about playing your music so loudly in the morning? Your little brother _was_ asleep until that racket woke him up!” She gazed up at the top bunk where her eldest was sitting, pouring over a book from her father’s uncle. Julianne looked like an ordinary 11 year old, but she was far from it. She had long, sand-colored hair and wide brown eyes. In certain light, they appeared purple, like Amaya’s. But Julianne had trouble focusing her mind, and claimed that she could only truly focus when she had music playing. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Don’t play Classic Rock before 10am? And I’m sorry, next time I’ll find a showtune.” Julianne declared, rolling her eyes.

“Mommy, what's for breakfast?” Little Seraphina was asking, tugging on Amaya’s robe.

Amaya pointed at her eldest daughter. “I am not finished with you.” And then she looked at her youngest and smiled warmly. “Lets see what we can enchant out of the pantry and into our stomachs.” Seraphina giggled happily.

“MO-O-OM!” A boy's voice hollered from downstairs. “There’s no clean silverware!”

As Amaya left the room, she called back to her eldest. “Julianne, please help Jacob set the table.”

The girl jumped down from the top bunk, landed like an action hero on the floor, flipped her hair back from her face, and raced out of the room. Amaya looked around at the silenced radio and turned it off. _This girl needs a soundproof room._ She thought grimly.

“I want Polish pancakes,” Seraphina pleaded. “Wiff apples.”

 

Downstairs, Julianne and Jacob were singing the entire selection of Oliver Twist. They were very good, for a couple of preteenagers, and kept in tune with the help of banging forks and knives upon the kitchen table. They were just passing each other cups and plates when their mother and younger sister entered. Julianne had climbed up on the counter to hand the plates down to Jacob, who would place them on the table.

“ _Just thinking of growing fat,_ ” Julianne sang out, to which Jacob responded:

“ _Our senses go reeling! One moment of knowing that--”_ at which point his sister joined in. “ _Full. Up. Feeling!”_

Their mother paused on the edge of scolding them into silence, but took a leaf out of their book instead. “ _Food glorious food, what wouldn't we give for!_ ”

Seraphina skipped to the end: “Gorious fooooood!” She clapped for herself as her mother set her in a chair. “We’re having pancakes!”

“Again?” Julianne asked. “We had pancakes yesterday.”

“Which is why you’ll have leftovers today. Grab the powdered sugar while you're up there, dear, your father hid it on the high shelf again.” Amaya patted her daughter's leg as Julianne maneuvered accordingly.

“I got the syrup!” Jacob proclaimed loudly, pointing at the table.  

“Is daddy at work already?” Seraphina asked, before gnawing on the edge of her chair.

“Honey, don't do that, and yes--he left early this morning. But he loves each and every one of you. In fact--he left something for you.” She descended on her children one by one and planted a wet raspberry on their cheeks. Mixed reactions were given, but at last they settled long enough to devour the reheated pancakes.

“Hey Jules,” said Jacob to his sister as they washed the dishes afterwards. Their mother had to rush to dress for work so she left the cleanup in their capable hands.

“ Hey Jake,” replied Julianne, eying the radio in the corner. _Just a bit longer._

“Did you have the dream, yet?” He asked, accidentally squirting himself with dish soap. “Dagnabit.”

“The one where you star in the Wizard of Oz?” She asked innocently.

“No.”

“The one where the No-Maj president reveals he’s a direct descendant of a Scourer and declares war on MACUSA?”

“No, but let’s revisit that later.”

“The one where Sera sprouts a tail?”

“No!” Jacob said firmly. “THE dream, the one you’re supposed to get to tell you you're going to school this year!”

“Oh. Then no. Did the mail come yet?” She asked hopefully.

“No, and when it does it won't have an acceptance letter from Pigpimples either, so don't expect one.” Jacob spelled out in a derogatory tone. It was very impressive for a ten year old to achieve such a thing.

“I'll expect one as long as you expect me to have that special dream.” Julianne huffed, drying her hands with a towel. “Hurry up. We have to drop Sera off at Kindergarten.”

Jacob paused, looking confused. “It’s August.”

“And it’s her first day.”

“Who starts Kindergarten in August?”

“Crazy No-Majs, that’s who. Come on, we’ll make her late--get dressed!” Julianne raced her brother up the stairs, where he veered off to his room to change out of his Spiderman pajamas. Julianne found Seraphina was already dressed, but was fidgeting with her shoelaces on the lower bunk. “Hey what’s wrong? We have to leave in a few minutes.”

“I don’t wanna go.” Seraphina mumbled. “I wanna stay with you and J-J.”

“I know. I didn't want to go to No-Maj school either when mom made me go. But look at it this way, in just two years, your magic’ll turn up, and you’ll never have to go to No-Maj school again. Now--” she reached down and began to tie her sisters shoelaces for her. “--do you remember the rules about going to No-Maj school?”

Seraphina squinted, thinking hard. “It's called Kindergarten. Don't get upset with anyone in case you conjure accidental and premature magic. And don't tell anyone about witches and wizards.”

“Good.” Julianne nodded, moving on to the other shoe. “What else?”

“I have two older siblings who are homeschooled; they’re very advanced.” Julianne grinned at the slightly bored delivery. “My mom works in government and my dads a baker on Riv...river…”

“Rivington street, good, continue.” Julianne urged, taking her sisters hand and leading her out of the room. “Don't forget your backpack.”

Seraphina grabbed it quickly. “My favorite color is pink, and my favorite animal is a demiguise-”

“Whoa, whoa,” Julianne held up a hand. “No-Majs don't have demiguise’s. What's your alternative?”

Her sister gave a big sigh. “Dog.”

“Atta girl!” Julianne patted her on the back. “Jacob! We’re leaving without you!”

“I'm coming!” He slid down the stairs on the rail and skipped out the door Julianne had just opened. “Hurry up slow-pokes!”

Julianne closed and locked the house behind them, and as they left the bottom step, it appeared as daunting and uninviting as it did to any casual observer.

 

“What happens if we get mugged?” Seraphina whispered to Julianne ten minutes later on the bus. She was staring at a particularly shabby looking man who was hunched over a few rows away.

“Then Jacob will  cause an ‘accident’. I’m eleven now, I’m technically not supposed to do it outside of school--whichever one it will be.” answered Julianne, glancing around at the adults. The nice thing about living in the city is the few times people _do_ overhear conversations with the word magic in it, they ignore it and press on about their day.

“How many more stops?” Jacob asked from where he was gazing out the window on Seraphina’s other side. “It can’t be more than four.”

“Just three.” Julianne nudged Sera, giving her a bracing smile. “Are you excited for your first day?”

Sera smiled weakly. Jacob tried to tickle her. “Come on, Phi-Phi, it’ll be fun!”

“It’d be more fun if you guys were there.” she protested.

“You know me and authority figures. I’d just get you in trouble,” said Julianne confidently. “And J-J here would eat all the snacks.”

“Without asking,” added Jacob, nodding sagely.

“Without asking,” confirmed Julianne. “Honestly, you’re the most well-behaved and best prepared between the three of us to go to school.”

Seraphina waved them off. “Okay, okay...but whose idea was it to start school in August?”

“I know!” Jacob said incredulously. Julianne hushed them, staring around with wide eyes at the adults, a few of which sent Jacob an annoyed glance or an irritated grunt.

At the next stop, a boy with olive skin jumped onto the bus, followed by a smaller boy with black hair falling into his eyes. The pair of them took the seats across from the Kowalski children and grinned over at them. Julianne smiled back, where Seraphina made a point to ignore them.

“Ciao amici,” the older boy said.

“Ciao,” replied Julianne, her eyes twinkling.

“Ahh you’ve been practicing,” said the boy, flashing a very toothy smile at her.

“Hi Matteo,” Jacob greeted, before the other boy could launch into his family's language with gusto. “Did you have the dream yet?”

Matteo glanced around at the adults, before giving them a double thumbs up. “And you, Julianna?”

She shook her head. “I'm expecting a letter, remember?”

Matteo placed a hand on his chest dramatically. “And what? Leave me to the moose? Don't go, bella, I need you in Massachusetts with me.”

“Sorry, Matt,” said Julianne without remorse. “I've got big plans across the pond.”

Their stop came and the five of them got off the bus. The elementary school was just around the corner, and the walk was brisk enough to beat the bell.

“Have fun, Sera! We’ll be here for you in a few hours.” Julianne gave her little sister a quick hug. “You too, Joey, in case Matteo abandons you.” She spoke to Matteo’s little brother in Italian, which motivated him to give her a hug as well.

“She’s too good for you,” Joey squeaked at Matteo.

“Go on ya little nose-picker,” Matteo cuffed him around the neck. “Play cute for a few hours.”

They waved until their youngest siblings disappeared in the building with the rest of the No-Majs, the piercing bell threatening to make them all deaf.

“Where to?” Jacob asked, shoving his hands in his pockets to look cool.

“Let's go to the park! If we sing at the fountain they might start giving us money,” Matt suggested.

“No-Majs are weird,” said Jacob. “Come on, Jules.” He tugged at her arm, leading her after their friend.

For her part, Julianne was trying to remember all the words to _Ramble On_ from that morning. She remained focused on lyrics until they reached the park, at which point she was distracted by the older boys playing basketball or across the lot where several kids in baggy clothes were performing tricks on their skateboards. One kid was standing off to the side, one foot on his board and the other firmly on the ground. Unbidden, uncontrolled, Julianne found herself in his mind.

_He’d had an argument with his twin that morning. They were both still upset; his brother was all the way on the other side of the park on the monkey bars. He’d had enjoyable summer out on the island until yesterday morning, when he’d--_

Jacob tapped her arm, bringing her back into the moment. “What?”

“You were at it again, weren’t you?” Her brother was frowning slightly.

Julianne shrugged. “I can't help it.”

“Babcia says you shouldn't in public--it's frowned upon.”

“Babcia’s not here,” she replied, pushing past him towards the fountain. Matteo took off his hat and laid it on the ground. “Ready miastro?” He asked jokingly, before clearing his throat. He broke into an off-key rendition of “Break Free” by Queen before she or Jacob could stop him. A few heads turned but not many. _It's just the weird Italian kid_.

By the time he’d finished, a doddering old man with a small ankle biter on a leash had dropped a few coins in the hat, but that was all. Defeated, Matteo slouched against the fountain with the Kowalski’s. “Your turn, amici.”

Julianne pulled Jacob up with her and then gestured at him dramatically before bursting into “Boy for Sale” from Oliver!. That got a few more coins in the hat. Jacob’s pitiful expression really sold it.

“What’re you guys doing?” The boy from the edge of the skatepark had rolled over.

“Well it's not Shakespeare in the park,” answered Matteo. “What's it look like we’re doing?”

The boy shrugged. “Just asking.” He looked at Julianne. “You sing good.”

“Thanks.”

“What's your name?”

“Juli-” she began to reply, but Jacob cut her off.

“We’re not supposed to talk to strangers!” He’d crossed his arms and was frowning at the skateboard boy.

The new boy grinned and offered Jacob his hand. “I'm Jason King; and now I'm not a stranger.”

Jacob gave him as piercing a look as a ten year old boy could manage before grasping the hand. “Jacob Anatoly Kowalski.”

The freshly introduced Jason blinked a few times. “Bless you.” He turned on Julianne once more. “You were interrupted.”

She inclined her head. “My name is Julianne Queenie Kowalski.”

Again, Jason blinked. “Gesundheit. Ima call you Julie-Q.” He turned on Jacob. “And Ima call you Ja-ake.” He looked at Matteo. “And who’re you?”

Matteo said something rather inappropriate in Italian. Julianne intervened. “You can call him Matt.”

“I can roll with that. Whereabouts are ya from?” Jason asked. He was very curious for a No-Maj, Julianne found that she wanted to talk to him some more. Matteo evidently did not share the same idea.

“It don’t matter. S’not like you’ll ever be there.” Matt said snidely.

“Matteo!” Julianne scolded him. She’d always known Matt to be a little wary around new people, but he was just being mean to the No-Maj. And just like that, before she could stop herself, she was diving into Matteo’s mind.

_She saw Matteo and Joey at dinner with their twelve hundred older siblings and the baby, their parents may or may not have been in the room. Everyone was loud, several different arguments were happening, and the single rule was if you could grab it; it’s yours. In trying to pull herself free, she only found his emotions. Aggression. Insecurity._

“Jules? Jules!” _She could hear Jacob calling for her, but felt powerless to return to him. She could see all eleven years of Matteo’s life, even the parts he never cared to remember._

“Hey is she okay?” someone was saying.

“Back off!” Matt yelled. _Matt. Help me._

Someone took her hand. “Jules. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Julianne opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred at first, but then faces became clear. Jacob was the closest, his eyes full of concern. Matt was there, and hovering the the back was the No-Maj, Jason. “I did it again,” she mumbled apologetically, so only Jacob could hear her.

He nodded sadly. “Yeah. Let’s get you to a radio.”


	33. Sweet Dreams

“Is no one gonna explain what happened back there?” asked Jason King for the umteenth time. A few hours had gone by and after collecting Sera and Joey from Kindergarten, (both of them looking a little pale from the unfiltered exposure to No-Maj education), Matteo treated them all to pizza at his cousin’s pie shack. Jason had tagged along with them, and seemed unshakable. He annoyingly stuck by Julianne as though afraid she was going to collapse again. 

“I just spaced out,” she said around a mouthful of pepperoni. “Don’t worry about it.” She picked up another slice and shoved it into the question he was about to ask. If he was about to complain, he didn't because-- _ hey, free pizza.  _

_ “ _ Tell us about your first day,” said Jake, quickly changing the subject. Seraphina looked delighted, where Joey just tugged on his hair. 

“There were lots of boys and girls our age, but none of them had any m--” she stopped herself. “--you-know-what.” Julianne hid a smile as she watched the busboy next to their booth give a double take. “But they were nice.”

“Who’s your teacher?” Matteo asked, directing the question at his brother Joey. 

“Missus Urso.” He said, before digging into another slice of cheese. 

“Is she nice?” 

“Kinda.” Sera answered, stealing a pepperoni from Jake’s pizza while he wasn't looking. “She’s a little sour-hearted.” 

“She’s what?” asked Jason, looking confused. 

“That's her word for someone who is bitter,” explained Julianne. “I'm sorry she wasn't that friendly. Maybe she’ll warm up in a few days.” 

Sera looked doubtful, but not as doubtful as Joey, who began, in Italian, explaining to Matteo exactly why she was ‘sour-hearted’. Julianne and Jake, who understood mostly slang terms, snorted into their pizza. 

“Want me to walk with you guys?” Matteo asked once they'd stuffed themselves. He kept glancing in mistrust at Jason. 

Julianne waved his offer away. “We’ll be fine. See you later.”

Matteo pulled her and Jacob into a hug, likely giving Jason the evil eye over their shoulders. Seraphina and Joey gave each other an awkward high five, and then shuffled away. 

Once out on the street, Julianne turned to Jason. “We’ll be heading home now,” she said, trying to sound polite like her mother would expect. “It was very nice to meet you.” 

“Julianne, I gotta talk to you.” He blurted out, fidgeting with his skateboard. “I won't waste your time, but there’s something I gotta say.” 

She ran her hand over Sera’s head, giving Jacob a warning look. “Go wait by the bus stop.” When they were at a safe distance, she turned back to Jason, crossing her arms. “What.” 

Feeling bold now that he had her attention, Jason smiled. “Okay this is gonna sound crazy, and you have every reason to not believe me but--I had a weird dream two days ago, and you were in it.” He gave a nervous laugh and continued. “I know we just met today so it's impossible but I swear to you I saw a mountain coming out of the mist, towers that looked like fir trees and then there was a large room with a wooden balcony and this gold symbol on the floor and you were right behind me.” He stopped, taking her silence as a bad sign. 

Julianne stared at him, jaw slightly limp.  _ No way.  _ She couldn't help but check--his dream still fresh in his memory, as it likely would be for the rest of his life, she could see every detail as he’d described, down to her own face staring back. “No...I’m supposed to…” she mumbled aloud. 

“Like I said,” said Jason sheepishly. “It's crazy.” 

“No...no it's not.” Lian said carefully.  _ I have to be certain. And there’s a surefire way to know… _ “Do you have to be home at a certain hour?” 

“Just before all the weirdos start walking around,” answered Jason, looking unnerved at her swift change. 

“Great. Come with us.” She tugged on his arm and led him to the bus stop, where her siblings shot her confused looks. “I wanna show him the building.” She told them vaguely, but they understood what she meant. 

Jason looked apprehensive the whole way to their home, and when they stopped in front of the burnt, crumbling structure, he gave a loud whistle. “What happened to those suckers?” 

Julianne gestured at the front step. “Have a closer look.” Jacob and Seraphina looked on fixedly. 

“You serious?” Jason gave them a hard look. “Send the black kid in first? That's gonna work.” 

Rolling her eyes, Julianne stepped forward, took his arm and pulled him up the steps. In her view, the townhome revealed itself for what it truly was, unharmed and welcoming. If she was right about Jason, it would appear the same for him, because their home did not admit No-Majs apart from a select few--like Dziadek. 

She looked over at him, and grinned in triumph. Jason's face was priceless as he stared up at the townhome in all its simplistic glory. “How-but-what-it-burned-but-fine-and-HOW?” 

“You can see it?” Jacob asked skeptically. 

Jumping the gun, Seraphina exclaimed, “You’re a wizard!” 

 

Jason had questions. Fortunately, the three Kowalski children were well equipped to answer him. Jacob was just explaining the concept of disapparation and how it was better than teleportation from the comic books when the fireplace blazed to life. Jason yelled and jumped to his feet, but if it surprised any of his new friends, they did not show it. They only reacted when a man stepped out of the flames, which immediately died away once their passenger was delivered. 

Seraphina took a flying jump at the man, who had styled blond hair and a clean shaven face. His blue eyes danced as he scooped his youngest daughter into his arms. “There’s my little scholar! How was your first day at No-Maj school?”

Sera wrapped her arms around his neck. “It was good!” 

Jacob launched himself onto the man’s shoulders from the sofa, landing with a grunt. “We went to the park today.” 

“Right around the street from me? Why didn't you--” David Kowalski had just laid eyes on Jason and stopped. “You’re not my kid.”

Jason, who was still appalled that this man had appeared out of the fire, stammered helplessly for a minute before anything coherent came loose. “I'm J-Jason K-k-king.” 

Setting his children down, Mr. Kowalski extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I'm David. How do you know my children?”

Before Jason said something ridiculous, Julianne spoke for him. “We met him today. He’s going to Ilvermorny.”

“I am?” Jason coughed. 

“Is he now? I'm not familiar with the King family--you just move into the area, Jason?”

The boy shook his head. “I was born and raised in the village.”

“Really? That's not too far from where I work.” David said with a smile. “Ya ever stop by Kowalski Quality Baked Goods?” Jason shook his head. “Well, next time you're in the neighborhood drop in. I'll give ya somethin on the house.”

“Yes sir.” Jason said with a serious face. 

“Da-ad,” Julianne cautioned him. “You’re advertising again.” 

David gave his eldest a smile and planted a wet raspberry on her forehead. “Life of a businessman, sweetie.” He stood and began to remove his tie. “So, how long is Jason staying with us this afternoon?” 

“We were just explaining to him about apparition, and then we were getting to how he’ll get to Ilvermorny with everyone else,” answered Jacob without thinking. 

David’s smile faltered. “I'm sure his parents have taught him about all that.” 

“Not really,” said Jason. “My mom died when my brother and I were born, and my dad’s kinda in and out.” 

David’s smile vanished altogether. “You mean…”

“He’s a No-Majborn!” Seraphina squealed, beaming at Jason. 

“I'm a what?” Jason asked, staring around at them all. 

“That's not possible,” David told Seraphina. “That just doesn't happen in America like it does in Europe.”

“Check again.” Julianne said with a grin. “But before that; how was work? How's Dziadek?” 

“He’s great, work was great, everything's just--are you sure he’s a No-Majborn?” Julianne rolled her eyes at her father’s fixation. “Sweetie, that just doesn't happen.” 

“Well apparently there's an exception to the rule,” she said steadily. “Can we keep helping him come to terms with his new world now?” 

David sighed, taking a seat in his armchair. “Yes. Yes, of course we can. I'm sorry buddy,” he told Jason apologetically. “But this isn't a common occurrence. You're special.”

“Thank you, I think.” Jason looked quite befuddled, as if his brain was barely buffering along with the new information. “So, how do you get to Ilve...Ilve…”

“Ilvermorny.” Supplied Julianne. 

“Yeah, that place. How do we get there?” 

“ _ We  _ don't. I haven't had the dream yet so I might not go--”

“You’re going.” Three different voices in two different tones spoke all at once. Jacob and her father spoke with a dull finality, while Jason came from an encouraging perspective. “I saw you there with me, remember?” 

“Wait, what?” David said quickly. 

“You're not a seer, maybe I was included in your dream because I would help you understand--not that I would be at the school literally.” Julianne hardly convinced herself with these words, let alone anyone else in the room. “Anyway; Dad, how did Aunt May describe it?” 

“You know the story,” replied her father vaguely. “G’head and tell it.”

“Fine.” Julianne began to describe at length what would happen when it was time to go to school. Jason’s eyes grew wider the more she shared, and she was positive they would pop like balloons when she began explaining the four different houses. 

When the summer sun began to sink into the west, they were still attempting to answer Jason's questions. By then it was whether his magic was the reason he hadn't been accepted to his regular No-Maj school, and how he was supposed to explain everything to his family. (“I mean, if I go home right now, and tell my old man that I'm supposed to go to magic school, he’d probably lay off the whiskey for a week.”) Fortunately, that's when Mr. Kowalski started handling the answers. 

Julianne listened intently, or at least she tried to. She already knew all of this--the whole thing. Seraphina had given up hours ago and started coloring in the corner, while Jacob got hungry and ordered take-out from their favorite Chinese place. Stuffed with chow mein and chicken, Julianne felt her eyelids beginning to droop. 

She sat up suddenly when there was a knock on the door. David, very intent in speaking with Jason, told her to go and see who it was. Sliding off the couch, she left the room and stepped into a train station. 

She stumbled, barely avoiding the people going about their way all around her. It was brightly lit by the skylights, and the air was filled as shrill whistles sounded from various trains all around her. Oddly, the strange environment did not frighten her, as others often did. She couldn't ride the subways in New York, the last time made her collapse for a few days. But this was unlike any train station she’d ever seen before. 

She bumped shoulders with a boy about her age. They stopped and looked at one another in surprise. The boy had deep blue eyes and brown hair, and he was wearing plain black robes that looked like a school uniform somehow. He bore the Hogwarts crest, which made her heart sing with joy. She wanted to speak to him, to find out more about him but then, a tall man with the same hair and eyes took him away. The crowd in the station began to swell around her, shoving her along the platform.  _ No, wait. I have to talk to that boy.  _ She elbowed her way out of the masses, tripped on a homeless person, and was on track to slam into a brick wall. She shut her eyes, anticipating the collision, a jarring event that never came. She fell through and landed on something that was equally soft and pointy. She opened her eyes to see dirt and dead pine needles all around her. She looked up to find a wall of mist obscuring her vision, and a feeling of dread seized her very soul.  _ No. No, not this way. I was so close--please let me go back! _ Unbidden, her feet began to move, her body taking her while her mind protested. She did not have far to go. The castle appeared slowly, and she mistook the first few towers for very tall trees. The gate opened as she approached and in what felt like seconds she was crossing into the entrance hall. She looked around but saw no one. She saw the Gordian knot upon the floor, the circular wooden balcony above, and behind her, she heard a low growl. 

She turned and saw...herself. But it wasn't her as she was now, it was her but much older. The growl sounded from the snow leopard accompanying her older self, its long tail swishing. Julianne as an eleven year old looked down at herself, finding the blue and cranberry robes on her body, the Gordian knot resting on her sternum. But as she looked back up at her older self, she saw plain black robes, and a Hogwarts crest over her heart. Her older self smiled knowingly at her, and winked.

“Jules?” Jacob was shaking her, and she gave a start, opening her eyes and finding herself at home on the couch. “You okay? Were you having another episode?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern. 

Julianne shook her head, her dream or vision or whatever still in the forefront of her mind. She ran her hands over her face and through her hair. Judging by the quiet of the house, Dad had taken Jason home. The sunset was peeking through the window. “I just…” she said quietly. “I had a dream.”

“THE dream?”

She nodded, biting her tongue.  _ I don’t understand. I was so close to Hogwarts....and then...I just don’t understand. _


	34. Start Me Up

The day finally arrived. Her suitcase packed, her books bought and read through; and her new pet--a gift from her Great-Uncle--was perched on her shoulder. He didn’t like cages. Jacob and Seraphina were keeping watch by the front window, their noses pressed against the glass while their heavy breathing obscured most of their vision. It was very lucky, Julianne thought as she watched them, that no one on the street could actually see them.

The remainder of her summer had vanished into the sky like smoke. Every other day she and Jacob took Seraphina to Kindergarten, and most of the time they met up with Matteo and Joey, but not nearly as much as Jason would come and ask more questions about the wizarding world. Julianne hadn’t actually had time to tell Matteo that Jason was a wizard, so when he joined them at the park asking about the difference between hippogriffs and griffins, (Julianne had lent him her book on magical creatures,) Matteo almost had a heart attack.

He seemed to get used to it, but Julianne could still tell when he wasn’t being as genuine to the new kid. 

“IT’S HERE! IT’S HERE!” Sera squealed from the front room, waving her hands ecstatically. “IT’S...small.” she froze, squinting down at the street. “Is that it?”

Jacob, who still had his nose glued to the glass, grunted. “Well it’s not like our house is a regular stop, and we’ve never seen it before.”

“Still, that could only fit like ten kids.” 

Julianne gripped her suitcase handle, feeling a bit on edge. “How do we know for sure?” 

Her dad moved to the front door and opened it, leering at the vehicle. “That's it alright; I still remember from years ago when it took May her first year.” 

Amaya gave Julianne a hug. “Write to me. About everything.”

“I don't want to go,” she murmured in reply. 

Her mother cupped Julianne’s chin in her hand. “No more talk of this. You’ve been accepted to Ilvermorny and you should feel honored and excited. It’ll be amazing!” When Julianne continued to look unconvinced, her mother sighed. “Go for a week. If you still hate it, and you have three good reasons why, I'll take you to Hogwarts myself.”

Julianne pulled out of her mother’s embrace, staring up at her slack-jawed. “Really?”

“Only if they’re good reasons,” Amaya reinforced. “Give your siblings a hug, you have seconds before you go.” 

Seraphina and Jacob sandwiched her, squeezing her tightly. “Don’t forget about us, okay?” said her little sister from somewhere near her liver. 

“Okay?” croaked Jacob, looking into her eyes. Julianne could tell he was trying not to cry. 

“Okay.” Julianne sniffed. 

Her dad handed her suitcase over, after Mom peeled off Jacob and Seraphina. The four of them stood in the doorway as she hauled her luggage behind her towards the vehicle waiting for her on the curb. From the house, and to all No-Majs, the bus appeared quite ordinary; shabby even. But once magical eyes were within ten steps of its doors, it’s true form was revealed. To anyone unfamiliar with No-Maj repellent charmwork, this would be slightly alarming. The Volkswagen bug with the rusted color suddenly transformed into a shuttle van a distinct shade of cranberry. The driver hopped out and opened the side of the van, which had a hidden and magically extended compartment for all the luggage it would carry today. 

Before he loaded her things, the driver took a moment to look her over, in her torn, grass stained jeans and AC/DC t-shirt, and new red converse. “So, you’re the Kowalski kid,” said the driver in an accent indicative of Boston origins. 

“Yeah,” she replied, placing one hand on her hip. “What of it?”

“Nothin’.” The driver shrugged, before loading her luggage in the under compartment. He couldn't fool Julianne, even as he opened the passenger side door for her and closed it behind her, she could practically hear his mind chuckling.  _ Old Gilly can't wait to meet her.  _

_ Who’s Gilly?  _ she wondered as she found an empty seat. The inside of the shuttle was unbelievably comfy. On the outside the thing looked like it could only seat eight passengers, while the interior resembled something of what she imagined a limousine to be like. Her aunt had told her about the shuttles to school. Apparently there were about thirty of them, one for two states or provinces. Several seats were already filled with older students, in mixed attire. Their robes were kept and provided at the school itself, as were the wands. She didn't recognize anyone for a few minutes, until she spotted Matteo sitting with his older brother and sisters. Feeling slightly relieved, she occupied the seat across from the five of them. “Ciao amici.”

“Ciao,” they all chorused. Matteo went to speak further but was beat to the punch by his older brother, Giovanni. 

“Nice shirt,” he said with a grin. 

“This old thing?” she returned cheekily. 

“Are you so excited?” One of the triplets asked brightly. Julianne guessed it was Angela but she couldn't be certain it wasn't Rosa-Maria. 

“What House do you think you’ll get?” the other one chimed in. 

“Or at least, what House do you think Matt’s gonna get?” Julianne was sure the third one was Laura--she was the only one with the cat-eye glasses. This year she’d opted for a frame with rhinestones and Julianne couldn't tell if it was fashionable or a faux pas. “We’ve been arguing all summer over it and I swear to President Jackson and back we still can't figure it.”

Unsure which to answer, Julianne decided to go in order. “Not terribly thrilled but whatever; I don't know but it's almost a tradition to get into Pukwudgie in my family and--” she considered Matteo for a moment. “Definitely Horned Serpent.” 

Laura laughed while the rest of the Bianchi bunch gave Julianne mingled looks of surprise and amusement. 

The shuttle began to move off towards the village, and pulled smoothly to a stop before a brick apartment building. There were several broken windows and the bricks were a faded orange instead of the traditional red. 

Julianne watched with interest as a boy stuck his head out the window on the second floor, turned to yell over his shoulder at someone, likely a family member, and then just lean against the window sill, watching the deceptively shabby van. Then, Jason King, who Julianne realized looked very much like the boy from upstairs, came out the front door and met the driver. When he was exactly ten steps away from the van, and able to see its true form; Jason’s jaw dropped as he gazed up in wonder at the shuttle. Julianne waved before remembering that the windows were one-way. As he boarded, his eyes found her and Matteo immediately and he claimed the seat to Julianne’s left.

“It’s real,” he whispered excitedly. “I mean, I believed you when you told me. I believed your pops when he told me. But it’s here. We’re actually going!” He ran a hand through his short hair. “I have more questions.”

With the help of the older, more experienced students, the entire shuttle clamored to answer Jason for nearly two hours until his mind was utterly spent. Then, his final inquiry of the ride gave them all a hearty laugh. “Are we there yet?”

 

The shuttle moved through the No-Maj community swiftly, able to skip through entire streets and manage to not run any red lights, squeezing into lanes that would’ve been impossible were this a normal vehicle. They picked up kids all over New York and Vermont, before dipping down into Massachusetts. 

The road the shuttles took, as more than one began to culminate outside the window, until they were positively driving in a line of cranberry up the highway, was sheltered by giant pine trees. The longer they drove the more fog seemed to appear all around them, until they were basically wading through it. There were moments when it seemed as though the cars were flying rather than rolling through the mist. 

Definitely not your regular roadtrip.

Their driver pulled off to the shoulder, putting it into park. “First years, off here.”

Julianne glanced out the window, through which she could barely make out a sign post, and almost nothing beyond. “Is he serious?”

Giovanni nodded, saying nothing. Laura smiled encouragingly. “Good luck.”

Feeling decidedly unlucky, Julianne led the way off their shuttle, a collection of boys and girls trailing behind her. Several other first years were to be seen hesitantly leaving the shuttle vans, which promptly disappeared into the mist once the doors shut. Julianne estimated around a hundred kids altogether, once the shuttles had all gone. 

“Now what?” Jason asked, unaware that for once, she did not possess all the answers. Shrugging, she moved towards the sign post--which was all black except for a Gordian knot in the very center. A couple of kids moved up behind her to examine it, someone even tapped the symbol as though expecting something miraculous to happen. 

It was an interesting choice, Julianne thought reflecting on their situation, that the school would choose to leave a bunch magical children on the roadside, without any magical instruments or aid to their name.  _ Well, not entirely, _ she reminded herself, reaching up to her shoulder where Diggle was still clinging. He’d taken a nap during the trip, but she could feel him kneading her shirt fabric nervously. No one else could see him, in fact neither could Julianne, but if she could get a glimpse from his forethoughts…

_ Something small and prickly emerged from the mist, carrying a bow, a few arrows dipped in a dark substance, and a lantern. Some of the students opted to follow, and some of them wanted to stay by the sign.  _

Blinking, Julianne frowned at Jason, who was repeatedly hitting her arm. He was pointing at something beyond the sign. First it was a floating light, but then, just as Diggle had seen, a small, prickly creature waddled towards them. He was grumbling under his breath, pausing momentarily to wave his lantern, which was hanging from the end of a very tall stick, and call in a surprisingly deep timbre. “First year students of Ilvermorny, come with me if you want to make it to the castle before the Hidebehinds get you.”

“The what?” asked Jason, eying the little creature skeptically. Several of the others mirrored his expression, and the people at the back moved to the side to get a better look at it. Julianne squinted at the creature, trying to name it before it became obvious.

“You’re a Pukwudgie,” she stated. The little creature turned his beetle black eyes on her and nodded. The lantern on its stick swung dangerously with this motion. “And they sent you from the school?”

“I wouldn’t trust it!” said a loud voice from the left. Julianne couldn’t place it with the numbers she was facing but she didn’t like the sound of whoever it was. “Pukwudgie’s don’t like humans--he’ll lead us all into an ambush and kill us off!”

This pronouncement caused a series of concerned whispers to spread through the assembled students. 

“Hey stupid,” came another voice, this time belonging to a boy. He was standing right behind Julianne, Jason and Matteo. “Instead of spouting off half-truths, why don’t you sit back and let the rest of us intelligent people figure out what to do. Pukwudgie’s have been working at the school since the founder’s time, and it makes sense that one of them would help us get to the castle.”

“If you want to get jabbed with poisoned arrows, go ahead. I’m staying right here and wait for a  _ human _ official to collect us--instead of gallivanting off into the woods with an overgrown porcupine!”

“What do you think we should do?” Jason asked Julianne expectantly, causing a few heads to turn in her direction. 

She gulped, trying to gather her thoughts, which was hard to do while she tried to ignore everyone else’s opinions. There were some very loud thoughts, likely from Texas. 

“Guys!” Matteo stole the attention away from her, looking bored. “This is a test. I have had six brothers and sisters go through this and they all say the same thing--the path is personal, but the way is the same.”

“I was just getting to that,” growled the Pukwudgie. “How you get the castle is your choice, but one way or another, you’ll each have to ascend the mountain. You can follow me, trust me, or you can try another way. If you don’t reach the castle gate in time for the sorting, you’ll be shut out, and have to wait until next year to make the climb. Or you could just get attacked by one of the beasts in the forest.” he paused, letting his words sink in. Then he turned around and started making his way through the mist. “I won’t ask again.”

Julianne didn’t hesitate, she marched right after the Pukwudgie, followed by Matteo and several others. Glancing back she saw at least half of them still standing by the sign post. She wondered if the Pukwudgie was telling the truth, that if you didn’t get to the castle in time you’d be rejected until later. Maybe she should wait by the sign, then she could try to get into Hogwarts again. She called over her shoulder to those still hesitating. “The shuttle’s aren’t coming back, guys!”

That seemed to motivate a few of them to follow, but too many remained stubbornly by the sign. Shrugging, Julianne turned to face forward and marched after the swinging lantern.

Moments later, the ground upon which they walked turned into a steep incline. Julianne could almost crawl on all fours, and some people had to, in order to avoid slipping and falling. Which is exactly what happened to the person directly in front of Julianne. They came sliding on a cascade of dirt and pine needles, colliding with her shins and knocking the pair of them into a bush. 

“Julie-Q?” Jason called from somewhere, but she was not in a space to answer him, what with an elbow in her face. The human rockslide and she disentangled from one another, and she found that it was in fact a girl.

“First time hiking a mountain?” Julianne asked conversationally. The girl gave a hollow laugh.

“No, but the fog isn’t exactly helping.” She glanced uphill nervously. “We’re losing the group.”

“Eh,” Julianne got to her feet, helping the other girl up as well. “We’ll be okay. Just keep marching up.”

“What’s your name?” the girl asked.

“Julianne. Yours?”

“Vera.” 

Julianne gave her a small smile, then turned and began pushing her way through the undergrowth. “Stay close. We’ll have a better chance that way.” 

They hiked in silence, the distant sounds of the Pukwudgie group encouraging them onward. Diggle had migrated from her shoulder to the collar of her shirt, making a strange rumbling with his throat that reminded Julianne of a kitten’s purr. She wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good sign or not, but he kept sending her visions of Vera tripping and tumbling all the way down the mountainside, or something equally bad. With this knowledge constantly uploading itself to her brain she was able to save the other girl from quite a few stumbles on their journey. 

“What’s that noise?” Vera asked, finally catching a hint of Diggle’s weird purr.

“Nothing to worry about, that’s just Diggle.” replied Julianne, sidestepping a large, gnarled root that was protruding from the ground. “He’s mine, I’m his, that whole dynamic and such.”

“Diggle?” Vera squeaked as she almost slipped for the eleventh time. Julianne grabbed her arm without even looking over her shoulder. “Is he a kitten?”

“Demiguise.” Julianne corrected, grabbing a nearby branch in order to haul herself a bit further up. “He’s kinda shy, so he’s concealing himself.”

“Oh.” Vera did not sound assured, or further informed. But, she didn’t ask for clarity so Julianne did not offer it. Silence lapsed between them once again. 

After what felt like several days, or possibly a year, the climb began to level out, until it was flat altogether. The mist seemed less opaque and more translucent. Julianne could swear she saw an outline of a wrought iron gate, and just before it, a light upon a tall stick swinging dangerously from side to side. 

“We made it,” Vera gasped, sounding amazed and out of breath. 

“Of course we did,” panted Julianne. “How dare you doubt that we would.” Rushing to blend in with the group, the girls took what they could see of the school as they waited just within its gates.

After about another half hour, several more students appeared over the crest of the mountain, though in her gut Julianne knew they were still missing quite a few students. Feeling slightly reckless, she moved to the front of the assembled students to where the Pukwudgie was standing. “What if they’re lost?”

“Hmm?” the Pukwudgie grunted.

“The other students--what if they’ve lost their way?”

“That’s what the Hidebehinds are for,” he said darkly. 

“Right.” she replied curtly. She then snatched his lantern from off the tall stick. “I’m borrowing this.” Swiftly, she moved back to the edge of the mountain, raising the lantern high. It did nothing to penetrate the fog but at least if anyone was close they could glimpse it. “HEY!” she shouted, knowing that there were a few times whilst climbing that she would not have continued, save that she’d heard voices ahead, guiding her path. 

Footsteps from behind alerted her to the presence of others. The girl she’d hiked with, Vera, Jason, and a few others she’d never seen before. They stood in a line with her on the edge of the mountain and called down to those still climbing. First came a couple of boys covered from head to toe in mud. It looked like they’d spent the better part of the time wrestling rather than climbing. Behind them came a solitary girl who was sweating profusely. One by two by six in one case, kids began arriving out of the mist, joining the group inside the gate. The last one to arrive was the loud girl from earlier. Julianne knew she had to be the last because she was grumbling about it her head. 

Offering the girl her hand, she grimaced. “Come on, let’s get sorted.”


	35. Go Your Own Way

“Who’re they?” Jason was pointing at the marble statues, illuminated only by the light from inside the castle. The statues in question were of a witch and a man, one on either flank of the grand front doors.

“Isolt and James; the founders of Ilvermorny. She was a witch from Ireland, and he was a No-Maj.” Julianne answered, remembering what her Aunt May had told her. They scaled the stone steps and reached to push open the doors, but they fell away before any of the first years could lay a hand on the polished wood. Beyond the threshold awaited a circular room with a high ceiling, topped off by a glass cupola, through which they could see the stars. But before that, their eyes were drawn to the wooden balcony about half-way between the floor and the top, likely indicative of a second floor. All the older students were staring down at them, waiting for what happened next. 

“Welcome to Ilvermorny,” said a voice from the other end of the room. Julianne located the owner at once; an old man with a crew cut and a trimmed beard. His hair was a bright steel color and his eyes were the deepest brown. “Please come in, stand around the walls if you well. One by one you will come forward to stand upon the Gordian knot-” he indicated the golden symbol in the middle of the floor. “-and wait for your house to call to you. If perchance, more than one house offers you a place, the choice is yours where and how you’ll spend your time here.”

Though the room was circular, wooden carvings were placed on four separate parts of the wall, representing each house. The old man, presumably one of the teachers, cleared his throat and called, “Anderson, Kyle” forward. A boy with blond hair and a sunburned face moved forward to stand over the symbol. Nothing happened at first, and then the jewel on the Horned Serpent’s head began to glow. Overhead, the older students cheered. Some even stamped their feet which made it sound like thunder. Kyle Anderson smiled broadly and, following the old man’s direction, moved into the next room. Julianne wondered if he was expected to wait upstairs with the rest of the school. 

It continued on in this manner, each student being chosen by the house and then quietly exiting the circular room. “Bianchi, Mattimeo” got sorted into Horned Serpent, as Julianne had teasingly predicted. She could hear his five older siblings above howling the loudest as he left the hall. “Cassidy, Andrew” was sorted into Wampus, while “Dunaeva, Scott” became a Thunderbird.  Julianne identified him as the same boy who had said, ‘Hey stupid,’ at the bottom of the mountain. 

“Everton, Aisha” became the first Pukwudgie of the evening. She looked a bit surprised, glancing towards the one that had led half of them up the mountainside in doubt. On and on it went--eleven year olds from all over North America went on getting sorted. It seemed highly unlikely that they would ever get to--”King, Jason”.

Julianne gave him a push as he seemed to hesitate, urging him forward onto the Gordian knot. Bouncing on his tiptoes, Jason frowned around at the carvings in anticipation. For a horrible moment, Julianne thought none of the houses would offer themselves, and it would be the most awkward return home anyone would be faced with.  _ So, you’ve got magic, but not enough. Have fun living as a Squib!  _ Which was all well and good--Squibs could enjoy very good lives in and out of the magical worlds,  _ Just look at Dad--oh wait, here we go. _

All at once the Horned Serpent’s jewel glowed while the Thunderbird flapped its wings. Jason hesitated further, remembering what the old man had told them at the start. It was his choice now. In the end, he chose Horned Serpent, exiting the hall after the rest. 

“Kowalski, Julianne”, came next, and for a moment, she forgot who that was. She stepped out into the middle of the room, expecting the Pukwudgie to raise its arrow the second she did. The carving stared stoically back at her, while a roar from behind made her jump. Turning on the spot, she not only saw the Wampus beckoning her, but the Thunderbird was flapping its wings as well.  _ The choice is yours where and how you’ll spend your time here,  _ she recalled quietly, glancing between the two carvings while her mind raced. Wampus house sounded cool, the house of the body, the warrior. But as she looked at the Thunderbird, she knew the answer was obvious.  _ I choose adventure, as surely as I choose to go to Hogwarts.  _

Placing her palm on the head of the Thunderbird, she could've sworn she felt a surge of lightning channeling into her soul through the mahogany. It was the spark of intrigue, the hunger to explore, and her spirit soared. 

She might have walked into the next room, she might have glided, she wasn't entirely sure. What she did know was that she had to wait outside while Jason finished receiving his wand. He came out with wide eyes as he gazed at the stick in his hand. Winking as they passed, Julianne stepped inside and saw a man with leathered skin and long, braided white hair. The walls of the room were entirely comprised of shelves, filled from the ceiling to floor with long, slender boxes. 

“Wand arm?” The old Indian asked, his sharp eyes surveying her with interest. Julianne raised her left hand, which he inspected with his sight, a few well placed prods and he even inhaled deeply. 

She thought he looked familiar. “Aren't you a wand maker?” 

As he moved through the shelves, he replied. “You’ve quite a memory--I was a wand maker for a time, but I am now a teacher at this school. My name is Professor Wolfe.” He selected a few boxes and brought them over to her. “Try this,” he offered her the first wand. “Cherry, 10 ¼ inches, Veela hair, tempered.”

She took the delicate looking wand but had barely waved it around before Professor Wolfe was shaking his head. “Worth a try. Here--” he replaced the Cherry wand with another. “Snakewood, 12 inches, Jackalope antler, unyielding.”

The moment her hand touched the wand it sparked and jumped out of her grip. “That's a solid no, then.”

Professor Wolfe grunted, picking the wand up and placing it back in its box. “Try one of mine, then.” He summoned a box from off the higher shelf, taking out a carefully carved wand. At its base was the carved head of an animal, though she couldn't tell which kind. She already knew that wand was hers before Professor Wolfe could give a brief explanation of its creation. “Pinewood, 14 ½ inches, Thunderbird feather core, reasonably supple, yet very stubborn. If this wand chooses you, you will have a very interesting career as a witch.” He placed the wand in her hand, then backed away quickly. 

Not for nothing, for when Julianne waved it, a shower of green and silver sparks shot from the tip. Professor Wolfe’s expression remained the same, but Julianne could detect a feeling of pride somewhere within him.  _ One of his...he made this wand! This is an actual Wolfe!  _ She checked the base of the wand again, wondering whether the animal engraved in the wood was supposed to be a wolf, as a nod to his work. But no, the ears were rounded. She wanted to ask, but knew that there were more students coming to claim their wand, so she bowed politely and left the room. 

 

The sorting finished up at last and the older students led them into the enormous dining hall. On the walls and ceiling, everywhere that wasn’t a window or the floor, was a mural, depicting the four magical creatures of the different houses, two for each House. The Wampus cats were stalking the Pukwudgies, who were currently watching the Horned Serpents as they slithered around the painted river. High above on the slanted ceiling, the Thunderbirds overlooked all, their golden feathers glinting in the light. 

Each window, which was stained glass and seemed to be depicting the story of Ilvermorny’s founding one to the next, was large enough to reach up and down the height of the walls. As for the dining arrangements, there didn’t seem to be a set table for each house. On the contrary, there were three large, circular tables that had been set at an equal distance to the long, rectangular table that had been set at the end of the hall, likely for the teachers.

Julianne found a seat among more familiar faces, but something in her gut told her that these were not the faces she would always seek in this room. No one was reaching for the food, however hungry they all were, instead they were all waiting patiently for someone at the staff table to speak. The same wizard who had called the names during the sorting never took a seat, instead choosing to remain standing. As he smiled around at the students, it dawned on Julianne who he had to be. 

“Welcome to all; we have missed our old students, and are terribly excited to meet the new ones.” Headmaster Fontaine said with earnest. “This new year comes with many changes and announcements, all of which will be addressed. But first, well, I don’t know about you all but I’m starving.”

There was a scatter of amusement among the students, almost drowned by the murmur of agreement. Julianne accidentally elbowed Giovanni Bianchi in the ribs in her efforts to seize the barbequed ribs before anyone else. She served him a few in apology, but he didn’t seem to notice or mind. He was busy arguing with Angela over the lasagna. A few seats over, Rosa-Maria was flirting with a boy Julianne would never in her life call attractive, but the vibes she was getting off Rosa-Maria were enough to trick her for a minute or two. Shaking her head, she scooped herself a serving of mashed potatoes and reached for the salad bowl, which was being set aside by one of the other first years. 

“Hey,” she called to him, and he looked up at her, brow furrowed. That’s when she realized his mouth was full. “Oh sorry, nevermind. You eat.” She looked away quickly, picking up her fork and shoveling her food into her mouth. Vera sniggered beside her. She’d been sorted into Wampus house, though she’d had the option to become a Pukwudgie also. On her other side was Jason, who was already on his second helping of food. 

When Julianne had reached the second floor to watch the rest of the sorting, he’d mentioned how thrilling the year was going to be now that they were all in the same house. It was then that she’d had to admit that she’d actually been sorted into something other than Horned Serpent. The look on his face was something she wouldn’t soon forget, like a toddler being told he had to walk to the park on his own. 

_ He’ll be okay. He’s friendly enough, and he’s got Matt...not that he’s a great socialite. But it’s better than nothing,  _ thought Julianne as she gulped down some water.  _ In any case, it doesn’t look like they emphasize separating the houses much...I don’t recall anyone actually mentioning that they did, anyway… _

She would only learn later how incorrect her assumptions were.

When everyone was full and their plates satisfyingly empty, Headmaster Fontaine got to his feet. “There, that’s much better, I should think. Although I did have to re-adjust my belt quite a few notches to accommodate this meal.” he grunted to emphasize this point. “Now, onto those announcements I mentioned earlier. I am delighted to introduce our new Self-Transfiguration teacher, Professor Kamau.” He gave a gallant gesture to a man who rose to his feet, who was garbed in brightly colored robes, and had faded tattoos on his cheeks that resembled fangs. 

Julianne decided immediately that she liked him. Staring at him from her seat, she could glimpse bits and pieces of his past. She saw wide open savannahs and brilliant blue horizons. Fortunately, Headmaster Fontaine’s voice brought her back to the here and now.

“And I would also like to introduce Professor Bluebone as our new No-Maj studies teacher.” Another round of applause for the much more subtly dressed Mr. Bluebone, who stood and gave a nod before settling back into his chair. “We’re very grateful to have both of these fine teachers join our staff. Now, tryouts for Quodpot teams will be held this weekend, and I would to remind our older students and inform the new ones that traversing the mountain paths alone is expressly forbidden and could earn you an early trip home at  _ least. _ ” He gave a stern look to several different students spread out across the hall. Evidently this was a specific rule that was often broken. “And William, our head of security, has asked that I remind you all to not fly, duel or run in the corridors.” That particular announcement earned a few chuckles from some of the older students. 

“In that order, too,” said Giovanni under his breath. 

Professor Fontaine had a few other rules he felt the need to address, and then he dismissed them to go to bed. Disoriented, Julianne looked around for someone who knew where ‘bed’ was, and that was when she noticed that the students were leaving the hall out four distinct groups. 

“Wampus! With me!” cried a tall boy with broad shoulders over the heads of the confused first years. 

“Horned Serpent, this way!” A short girl with glasses and a thousand freckles was calling.

“Pukwudgie House, over here!” an overweight boy with an afro was waving down his house. 

Julianne scanned the hall in an effort to locate the Thunderbird leader, but no one stood out to her.  _ Odd. _ She did find a few in her house who looked equally confused, and they stood back to back in an effort to find their person. As the other three houses filed out of the hall, leaving just the first years in Thunderbird, something occurred to Julianne. “Guys...I don’t think we get a guide.”

“Why?” asked one of the boys standing beside her. 

“Thunderbird favors adventurers; I think we’re supposed to find it ourselves.”

One of the boys, she was pretty sure was called Scott, sighed heavily. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Julianne gestured around the hall, which was almost empty. “Do you see anyone volunteering to show us the way?”

“Maybe they forgot to assign someone,” said a girl with a round face and short brown hair. 

“Either way, she’s got a point,” said a boy with dark red hair and green eyes. “Our first adventure starts now.”

_ Well, second adventure, if you count the hike.  _ “Okay, so we’re in agreement to go it alone?” The other Thunderbird fletchlings nodded in a determined sort of way, though some still seemed hesitant. “Great. Any ideas on which way-”

“Here’s a thought,” the boy named Scott was facing the ceiling. “Why don’t we follow them?”

“Huh?” Julianne and the others looked up quickly in time to see the pair of painted Thunderbirds circling over them. Once their attention had been captured, the birds began to descend to the walls and towards the doors. “Cool.”

But once out in the hall, the painted birds picked up speed, shooting across the walls and back up to the ceiling. “Oh boy,” the girl with the round face grunted. “They want to play hide and seek.”

“I’m not closing my eyes and counting,” the boy with the red hair replied.  _ I’ve really got to learn names. _

“Don’t just stand around here, then, let’s go!” Off they went, about fifteen of them in all, racing through the castle after a pair of paintings. They had to be an odd sight, Julianne would later reflect, but perhaps not so odd if this was really what happened every year. But why exclusively their house? Adventure was one thing, but plain stupidity was another.

Eight floors later, they emerged through a trapdoor into a large and spacious loft. Tall windows gazed out over the starry sky and the misty mountains in the distance. It was like stepping into the atmosphere itself. There were tables and chairs, couches around a fire pit, and wooden staircase leading up to a secondary floor that had a grand piano and other places to hang out. There was even a small kitchen. The entire room was full to capacity, and when the first years entered, all eyes turned on them.

“What took you guys so long?” someone from the upper level called.

“Nine...freaking...floors…” panted one of the girls, who had doubled over in an effort to catch her breath. 

“You didn’t take the shortcut?” a tall girl with long hair asked incredulously.

“The what?” asked Julianne, squinting around at them all. 

“Who led you guys?” asked a boy with curly hair and glasses. 

_ Here it comes. _ “No one.” Scott answered. 

There was a rustle of surprise and dismay throughout the older students, particularly in the far corner near the window. Finally, a skinny boy came forward, blushing in odd areas on his face and neck. “So uh...I sorta forgot. Sorry about that.”

“Forgot!” Julianne gave a harsh laugh. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all here now-I think!” There was a ripple of laughter throughout the room, and the first years moved forward to meet their older housemates. For her part, Julianne stepped forward to meet the skinny guy, who was at least twice her height. “What’s your name?”

“Jonathan Haply,” he gave her a curious stare. “You’re Kowalski, right?” Julianne nodded. “Figures.”

“Your aunt is so cool!” one of the older girls exclaimed. “I mean, her class is hell but she is amazing!”

“Wait, she’s the related to the Alchemist?” another voice piped up. “Yes!”

Someone was throwing an arm about her shoulders. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Julianne Queenie Kowalski,” she answered, looking up into a kind of roguish face. 

“That’s a mouthful. Got a nickname?” asked Jonathan.

“Several,” she replied.

“Well choose one.” said the girl with the cheeky face. “What would you like to be called?”

There’s something about the way people choose to phrase their words, it means differently to the people listening than it does to the speaker. When this question was posed to her in such a way, she didn’t hear, ‘pick one of your old nicknames to become your new moniker’, she heard: Choose a new name. Fresh start. New school. Might be a good time to go her own way. 

“Lian.” she decided at last. “Call me Lian.”


	36. Red Sky

The next morning dawned surprisingly bright, and the first years found the rest of their house all gathered in the loft’s kitchen, which had extended itself to fit everyone in for breakfast.

“We don’t eat down in the hall?” asked Beck. She was one of the girls in Lian’s room, who had insisted that they all introduce themselves before falling asleep the night previously. 

“Not for regular meals, no,” answered a kind faced girl, who looked old enough to drive in the No-Maj world. “We only eat with the rest of the school for major events like start and end of term, holidays and special guests.”

“Who finished off the Cocoa Puffs?” a boy called from within the pantry. 

“I think it was Kelly,” someone replied. Lian served herself some scrambled eggs and toast and just listened to the older students chattering away. The girl with the kind face was named Tina, while the boy who was hungry from Cocoa Puffs was named Jamie. He had large eyebrows that rested over big, brown eyes and under a mess of curly black hair. Kelly, it transpired, was a big guy with long arms and blond hair. Lian began to doubt she would ever learn everyone’s names.

“When do we get our class schedules?” asked Kristy, the girl in Lian’s year with a round face. 

Tina jerked her head towards the window. “On the announcement board--they’re sorted by year.” 

Lian moved to the place she’d gestured towards, eyes raking the pieces of paper pinned up. There was one long list of all the classes available, accompanied by the names of the teachers that taught them. She noticed that the classes were written in different colors of ink; some in red, some in green, and mostly in blue. “What do the colors signify?”

“Blue means it’s a standard class,” Jonathan answered, stifling a yawn. “Everyone is required to take those. Green means it’s an elective course, you don’t have to but you can, once you hit second or third year.” He came up to the board with her and took a course schedule for his year, 6th. “And red means you don’t pick the class, you get chosen by the teacher if you have the right aptitude for the class.”

Lian’s eyes scanned over the red classes, her heart sinking slightly. There were only four, but she wanted to take every single one of them: Alchemy, History of Wandlore, Self-Transfiguration, and what had to be Ancient Runes, but it was scribed out in actual runes. 

She took one of the first year course schedules, which was blank until she touched it, then ink began to write itself across the page. 

_ Lian Kowalski _

_ Course Schedule _

_ 1st Year _

 

_ 9:00 - History of Magic _

_ 10:00 - Study Hall _

_ 11:00 - Transfiguration _

_ 12:00 - Meditation _

_ 1:00 - Lunch _

_ 2:30 - Potions _

_ 4:00 - TBD _

 

Lian frowned at the noon appointment.  _ That wasn’t listed on the courses available. And what does TBD stand for? _

“We’ve got a few classes together,” said Kristy, who had taken a schedule for herself. “How come you have a meditation period?” 

“A what?” Tina grabbed Lian’s schedule and scanned it before handing it back. “That's weird.” 

“Now that it’s official, how about we head to-” she checked the schedule. “-History of Magic.” 

“Better hurry up, it's down on the third floor.” Tina cautioned, gathering her own books. Following her example, Lian and the rest of the first years grabbed their bags and filed out of the trapdoor. 

 

Upon entering the classroom, they spotted a young woman with dark hair pulled back into a braid standing near the the chalkboard. The desks had been stacked on the far side of the room, leaving the floor open and empty. Unsure of what to do, the Thunderbirds sort of grouped together near the door. 

The woman looked around, revealing an explosion of freckles and bright blue eyes. “Good morning. Please come in and have a seat on the floor.”

Giving the perfectly good desks another glance, Lian moved forward and sat as close to the chalkboard as she dared, crisscrossing her legs. The rest of her house followed suit, and Lian found herself sandwiched between Scott and Beck. 

The woman smiled. “Welcome to History of Magic. My name is Professor Potter, and I look forward to getting to know you all.”

“Why are we sitting on the floor?” asked Scott, jerking his head at the stacked chairs and desks along the wall. 

Professor Potter shrugged. “You’ll find that a lot of your classes will not involve sitting at a desk, I’ll award points to anyone who can tell me why. Now then, I’ll be calling the roll in a moment, but first I would like for you all to decide who you want to study first.” She pulled out her wand and waved it over the chalkboard, which began to construct the likeness of three different people. “Shall we begin with Isolt Sayre and her story? Or perhaps the records of Red Sky? Or even the great Merlin himself. Think it over while I call the roll, and we’ll decide together.”

After “Yoshizawa, Rebecca,”  had declared herself present, Professor Potter allowed them to approach the blackboard one by one and make a mark as to whom they wanted to study first. Lian wasn’t terribly surprised to see that Red Sky had received the most votes, even though she herself had hoped for Merlin. It was then that the class became interesting. 

Professor Potter waved her wand and dimmed the lights in the room, before casting an illusionary spell to transform the room into a thickly wooded forest. Lian scooted a few inches to her left so she was sitting inside an oak that vanished into the ceiling. She could still see though, as Professor Potter began to narrate. “Centuries past, when the only man to be found on this continent was either Native American or a very lost Viking-” another flick of her wand and the fake forest began to shake around them. “-Magic roamed free. It was not tied to a specific bloodline, it was as the earth beneath our feet--constant and discoverable. Many within the tribes feared Magic, feeling that it should be hunted like a buffalo. Others believed it should be tamed, like a horse. Generally, the humans left the Magic alone.” -another wave and the illusion shifted, showing a few animals such as the rabbit, the mountain lion, the snake, the golden eagle, the frog, and the sparrow.- “As the Magic was without restraint, it was able to do whatever it pleased to the undiscovered world. It imbued the creatures of the land, giving them superior lifespan, strength and in some cases, a bit of magic for themselves.” -The rabbit sprouted antlers and bounded off into the trees. The mountain lion grew another set of legs while its yellow eyes glowed menacingly. The snake grew horns on its head and tail, like a wingless, legless dragon. The golden eagle truly became gold, its feathers glinting as it soared into the sky, clouds of thunder forming around it. The frog grew to the size of a large dog, sprouted horns while its eyes glowed red. And the sparrow grew a lizard-like tail with spikes at the end, a long neck and adopted a dragon-like appearance. It followed after the Thunderbird, disappearing into the fake clouds.

Lian watched with interest, though she knew the legend of Red Sky well. He had been a young hunter, with a terrible habit of wandering away from the rest of the hunters. He was curious about the Magic in the world, and why the elders of the tribe refused to speak of it. As he walked through the unknown woods, he stumbled upon the den of a Wampus Cat, a six-legged, swift and powerful beast, almost impossible to kill. The Wampus Cat spoke to Red Sky, telling him to not be afraid. Red Sky asked how the creature had learned to speak, to which the cat replied, ‘Magic.’

Overjoyed that he had found a source of Magic, Red Sky came back day after day to learn about the mysterious force that flowed through the world. The Wampus Cat would answer, so long as Red Sky presented him with food. One day, the Wampus Cat asked if Red Sky would like to harness Magic for himself, to which the answer was yes. And so, under the cats instruction, the hunter learned to use Magic.

“The legend says that eventually, the Wampus Cat taught Red Sky how to change his shape. Does anyone know how the story ends?” Professor Potter asked. 

Kristy raised her hand. “He transfigured himself into a fish, and the Wampus ate him.” 

A few of the students laughed, but Professor Potter merely shook her head. “That’s how the bedtime story goes, but does anyone know what really happened?”

Heads turned as the class looked at one another expectantly, but no one raised their hand. Lian, for her part was distracted by the teacher, who had the answer practically written across her forehead. Right when the professor  looked ready to burst, Lian raised her hand. “Red Sky was able to transform into a bear, but as he didn’t do it properly he was unable to transform back into a man. Furious with the Wampus who had tricked him into his cursed state, they fought each other and Red Sky won, only to be hunted, killed and skinned by his own tribe a few days later.”

As she’d described the events, the illusion took direction by her words. It showed the Wampus and the bear battle it out, and then, skipping the gruesome end, showed a tribe feasting on bear meat and wearing the fur of Red Sky. A kind of shocked silence followed her answer, while Professor Potter gave a grim smile and awarded Thunderbird House ten points. “Do you have a historian in your family, Ms. Kowalski?”

“Just a great-uncle who’s highly curious about American Magical creatures and their lore.” Lian answered with a shrug. This was true, but Uncle Newt had never told her about Red Sky. Anything she’d learned about the true story had occurred about two minutes after Professor Potter began telling the story. But she wasn’t about to admit it, on the off chance Professor Potter would deduct the points she’d just earned.

“Your homework,” speak of the devil, “is to write six inches of parchment, explaining the lessons learned from the legend of Red Sky, and whether or not it’s worth the time and risk to become an Animagus. Due next class period--and there’s the bell.” The illusion faded away until they were sitting in a regular classroom once again. Everyone got to their feet and scuttled out into the hallway, a few of them checking their schedules. 

“Who else has got Herbology?” asked Beck, looking around at them. A few of them, mostly girls, raised their hands. “Great, we’ll see the rest of you later then.”

Scott nudged Lian with his elbow. “You’ve got Study Hall too, right?” She nodded. “Let’s go explore!”

Lian rolled her eyes. “For an hour? I’d rather do the essay.”

“Killjoy,” Scott grumbled, walking in the opposite direction. Unabashed, Lian set off with the remaining three towards the library. They’d found it last night while chasing the paintings. 

  
  


“My name,” the wizard’s voice rang out through the classroom like a gong, bringing each and everyone of them to attention, “is Professor Rappaport, your Transfiguration teacher. I should like to direct your attention to the rules of my classroom; each of which you shall observe throughout the next seven years.” He whipped his wand through the air, and a long scroll of parchment rolled down from seemingly nowhere. Lian counted at least twenty-four rules, before the page was suddenly gone. “Is what I’d like to do, but I recognize that you are my Wampus/Thunderbird class, and I’d only be wasting my breath. Understand that a certain degree of respect and manners are to be followed in my classes, and anything less will have consequences.”

“Transfiguration’s gonna be great,” Lian whispered to Vera, who nodded ever so slightly, her eyes wide and eyebrows vanishing into her fringe. Professor Rappaport was a thin man with a receding hairline and what hair did remain was sticking out in all directions. His circular glasses balanced precariously on the center of his nose bridge, convincing Lian that one good sneeze would send them up into the chandelier. Overall, he looked like a sleepy Einstein sans the mustache. 

“As today is your first day in this class, and your second day holding a wand, we shall be reading in the textbook, introducing you all to Transfiguration basics and theory.” barked Professor Rappaport. “Everyone open your books to the introduction and trade off paragraphs one by one. We’ll start with Mr. Cassidy at the back and work our way forward. Proceed!”

_ Theory. Great.  _ The reading included the transformation formula, and revealed that quite a few people in their class couldn’t pronounce words longer than seven letters. Lian was relieved that the class was mixed with another House; for a moment there she began to believe she’d never see the other houses ever again.

At the end of an hour, Rappaport assigned them almost the same as Potter; a six inch essay on the five elements of Transfiguration. Which was not bad, considering she’d completed the first assignment already, and she’d taken notes during class so she did not have to be subjected to the dull textbook later on.

She checked her schedule, frowning at the next subject, which had added a fine print telling her where to go. Saying good-bye to Vera and the rest, she descended several flights of stairs until she no longer saw floors, just a long spiral stairway to what had to be into the mountain itself. 

At the end, it felt like a day but in reality only ten minutes had transpired, she reached a door that opened before she could touch it. On the other side was an impossible, beautiful sight. She beheld a huge cavern, in the which was a large pool of water, which glowed, lighting up the space. At the edge, only a few yards from where she stood, sat a man with his back to her. 

She cleared her throat, announcing her presence to him and the entire cave, as the sound echoed across the surface of the small lake. The man didn’t move, so she walked towards him, setting down her bag and sitting down beside him. “Are you the meditation teacher?”

“I am many tings,” the deep voice replied, the accent rich and unfamiliar to her. “But for now, I am your guide.”

Lian looked up into his face, which was difficult to make out in the light from the water, but eventually she realized he was the teacher from Africa.  _ What was his name? Kamu?  _

“I have been informed by da headmasta dat you have a great ability to look into da minds of uddas.” said Kamu. “Wid dis great gift, you must masta restraint. An so, each day I will help you learn how to focus on your own mind.”

“I have a question,” Lian said.

“I have a ansa.”

“What do I call you?”

“Kamau.”

“Okay. What happens if I don’t come to these sessions in the future?”

“You cheat yourself. It will not affect me.”

“So what’s my motivation to come?”

“Your mind is always active, even when it has no reason to be. Eventually you’ll seek peace; and you’d be grateful had you come and sat wid me. Or...you could suffer. Da choice is yours,” said Kamau, shrugging his big shoulders. Each one was the size of a quaffle. 

Lian couldn’t think of a counter argument, so she copied his position and focused on her breath.

 


	37. Catch a Falling Star

“What this place really needs is a study of magical creatures class, you know? Help us understand the meaning behind the animals that represent our Houses and what not.” Lian ignored the exasperated glance that her friends exchanged as she spoke. “Seriously, I mean Hogwarts has had one for years according to my great uncle, and no one can give me a decent reason why Ilvermorny hasn’t followed suit.”

Professor Butler’s eye twitched. It wasn’t the first time Lian had asked a question or proposed a topic that had nothing to do with Charms, and it was only October. “Indeed? How curious.” He cleared his throat and returned to the textbook. “With your  _ permission _ Ms. Kowalski,” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “May I return to the lesson?”

Lian sighed and sat back in her chair, disappointed. “Yes, sir.” Laura and Angie had often mentioned how Professor Butler was a very wise man with an answer for every student’s question. . .evidently that courtesy did not apply to her questions on the way Ilvermorny was run.  _ Maybe it would save time and energy if I just approached Professor Fontaine with my ideas. _

After a thrilling lesson on sun-related charms, (lighting the tip of your wand like a No-Maj flashlight without the batteries, shooting enough sparks out the end to cause a fire, and a heat charm that could burn you if used incorrectly,) Lian found herself in the courtyard, writing up a list of things that Ilvermorny needed to change. Her mother’s promise that she’d send her to Hogwarts if she had good reasons after the first week had proved faulty. Lian had been so overwhelmed by the end of the first week that she forgot to focus on the bad aspects of the school. Now that she was stuck for at least the end of her first year, she figured she might as well make the best of her situation.

She was interrupted when someone plopped their bag down on the bench where she was working. Looking up, she recognized another first year, but she did not remember her name. The girl smiled politely—or it was supposed to be a smile, it was more like a grimace to be honest—and then began to dig through her bag for something.

Clearing her throat, Lian decided she would talk to her. “Hi.”

The girl ignored her, continuing to rummage through her bag determinedly. Lian cleared her throat to give the girl another chance, but was ignored a second and third time. Finally, she reached out and tapped the girl on the shoulder. She jumped and looked up quickly, her dark hair whipping back. She raised her eyebrows and blinked.

“Uh, hello,” said Lian. “My name’s Lian, I’m a first year like you. What’s your name?”

The girl watched her lips very closely when Lian spoke, and then when she replied it was with her hands and mouth. After three words, Lian realized the girl was deaf, but could read lips very well. “Hey, my name is A-I-S-H-A,” she spelled out her name with the signals for each letter as she pronounced them in her different accent. Lian tried hard not to make a face, as she didn’t want to appear as rude as Aisha had previously appeared to be. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, thank you for asking.” A quick look-see in Aisha’s memories taught her all she needed to know about ASL. She signed, “How do you like this school?”

Aisha looked startled as Lian finished signing, but smiled all the same. “I love it!”

“Why?”

Aisha hesitated, then began moving her hands faster than she could enunciate. “I like learning, and the teachers I have follow the textbook so I always know what’s going on, not to mention all the spells are taught non-verbally anyway so I’m already ahead of the game in that sense.” A small frown graced her lips as she paused.

Lian signed. “But?”

“It’s just…hard to make friends I guess. They all look at me and wonder why magic can’t fix me, or what’s wrong with me or how are they supposed to talk to me…you’re the first one to try. How did you learn ASL?” she gave Lian an expectant look, but something about her dark eyes gave Lian to know that she better not lie.

“Can you keep a secret?” Aisha nodded, gesturing at herself in an ‘ _ obviously _ ’ kind of way. “I’m a Legilimens. I learned it from you.”

Aisha frowned further, but she didn’t seem upset. “What are you talking about? What’s L-E-G-I-L-I-M-E-N-S?”

_ It would be so much easier to show you but oh well! _ Lian tried her best to explain via sign language. “I can see the memories and feel the emotions of those around me. I was born with the ability, like my grandmother. It’s a little annoying sometimes, because if I get too deep in a memory, I faint.”

Aisha laughed. It was an amazing noise, and caused Lian to laugh too. “That’s really cool. Will you always remember ASL now?”

“Only if I have a reason to use it.”  _ I should do this with languages more often. _ “I probably won’t remember it when you’re not around, but if you are, I will.”

Aisha looked very happy with this news. “Will you be my friend?”

Lian smiled, well aware that she was still holding a list of reasons and ways that Ilvermorny had to change. This girl had a few reasons to not want to go to this school, like the way kids their age acted towards her. But she was here, and she was making the most of it.  _ Okay. I’ll give the school one year to change my mind. If not, I’m going to Hogwarts next year. _

She nodded, shoving her list away into her bag. “Of course I will,” she replied.

—

The Alchemist’s wing was unique to the main structure of the castle. As Lian made her way along the corridor she recognized that she was walking upon a kind of metal, not stone. The walls were definitely made of stone, in the way that contractors used granite pieces instead of brick. But the walls here were not strictly granite, Lian saw more than twelve materials lining her path. Her attention was so captured with the purposeful design that she nearly walked past the office.

Backtracking quickly she knocked politely, using the iron knocker as the solid door might have broken her hand.

“Come in,” came the soft voice from within. Lian pushed at the door for a few seconds before realizing she needed to be pulling instead. As solid as it was, the door opened swiftly and quietly. Inside the modestly sized room sat a woman with blonde hair pulled up into a knot, her wide brown eyes zeroing in on Lian at once. “Close the door behind you.”

Lian took the chance to observe the room; it had been years since her last visit. It was still lined with bookcases, each shelf home to heavy volumes, some written in old languages like Latin, or science. The wooden desk was simple, and built to the purpose of efficiency. It was filled, Lian knew, with bottles and boxes of strange chemicals and elements of which she remembered only half the names. Behind the woman in the chair was a large window overlooking the fog outside.

Lian took a seat without invitation, slipping her shoes off and curling her feet beneath her on the cushion. “Hello Aunt May,” she greeted casually.

Aunt May rolled her eyes. “And you wonder why I didn't put you in my class. If you'd walked into my Alchemy lab and taken your shoes off I'd be inclined to transmute them.”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” Lian replied, shrugging. “You wanted to talk to me?” She pulled out a note from her robe pocket, flashing it at her aunt.

“Yeah kid,” Aunt May sighed. “I was talking to Professors Rappaport, Kamau, Butler and Lestoat; four teachers who are under the impression that you might be magically challenged.”

Lian felt her face flush with color, and her eyes dropped to the floor in shame. “Even Kamau?”

“Yes, who let you join an advanced class in your first year, on my recommendation and that of Professor Wolf’s. But he and the rest are concerned at your lack of results. To clarify that's Charms, both Transfigurations and Defense Against the Dark Arts where you are at the very bottom of the class. You've waited your whole life to wield magic-what's up, kid?”

Wishing she knew how to disapparate, Lian reluctantly answered. “I suck.”

“Julianne Queenie Kowalski, sit up straight and give me a real answer!”

As though she’d been electrocuted, Lian obeyed and made eye contact with May. “I suck!”

May pursed her lips, then reached into one of her drawers, withdrawing a small crystal vial. Inside was a kind of dust or something, Lian only knew that it was colorless. “Tell me what you think this is.”

Oh here we go. A “lesson”. Lian exhaled through her nose as she leaned toward the desk to get a better look. At her aunt's encouragement, she held it in her hand, it was kind of heavy and warm, and then she held it up to the light, wondering if the crystal was making rainbow lights dance across the bookshelves. She then removed the stopper and gave the dust a sniff, before resealing it and placing it back on the desk before May. “I don't know.”

“Take a guess.”

“I know what it looks like, but I know it can't be that.”

“Explain.”

Lian huffed. She had a potion essay she could be doing now. “It looks like dust gathered from one of the many books in this room but it isn't because it's been kept in that vial for a very long time. Who keeps dust in crystal? Also, you keep it in your desk drawer so it's important, and within reach so it's important to you.”

May smiled, but her eyes looked smug. “Good assessment.” She picked up the vial delicately between her index finger and thumb, examining it carefully as she continued to speak. “This material does not come often, nor is it readily found. The casual observer such as yourself may eye it skeptically and judge it on the five senses available. However, until you discover its purpose, you’ll never be able to guess at what it is, how it works.” She paused, allowing her words to sink in. Then she offered the vial to Lian. “I want you to keep it, until you can tell me what’s inside.”

Lian hesitated, just short of accepting the dust. “Why?”

“Because if you return it to me still convinced that its useless dust gathered from my book collection, then maybe your time at Ilvermorny has been wasted and you’d rather follow in your father’s footsteps.” She replied curtly. “Prove to me otherwise. Prove you’re a witch, capable of commanding magic, rather than letting it roll over you.”

“Are you saying that my professors think I’m a Squib?” Lian said incredulously. “Just because I’m falling a bit behind? But I got the dream! And I’ve got Legilimency! I have magic, you know I do—otherwise what am I doing here!?” She was raising her voice but did not care. Maybe if she yelled she could make books fly off the shelves. It happened when she was seven, so why not happen again?

“It’s happened before,” was the reply. “You know it has.”

“I am my mother’s daughter. I am a witch!”

Aunt May stood, moving to the solid metal door and pushing it open, indicating that it was time for Lian to leave. “If you solve this mystery, it proves you’re a witch. If not…then I suppose we all overestimated you.”

Reluctantly, Lian moved to the doorframe, glaring up at her aunt the whole way. May was still offering the vial, which Lian accepted, albeit bad-temperedly. “If I pass your little test…will you put me in your Alchemy class?”

Aunt May studied her for a minute. “Your admittance to an Alchemy class requires progress in both Potions and Transfiguration studies. Pass my little test all you want; until you start moving forward in this school, what I say will matter very little.”

—

Three weeks passed since May’s chat. Lian kept the crystal vial in her inner robe pocket, right next to her wand. Every so often, when she’d finished homework or grown tired of her ineptitude, she’d take it out and examine the dust over again.

Eventually she’d gone to the library and read up on rare elements that Alchemists highly valued. It didn’t resemble salt in anyway, nor any manner of earth. It wasn’t ash from any kind of fire she was familiar with, and it certainly didn’t smell like sulfur. She wondered if it was crushed remains of one of the seven planetary metals, like lead, mercury or silver. No such luck. She tried asking Professor Thorn, the potions instructor, for his input, but once he laid eyes on the vial he smiled and shook his head, refusing to help.

Approximately twenty-two days after she’d first received the dust, she had an idea how she might discover what it was. After a chilling and disappointing argument with the Librarian over whether she could borrow a book on the laws of Alchemy; Lian crept into May’s office during dinner and took the same volume from her collection. She occupied an unused room near the loft, sat on the floor near the tall windows and began to scan the pages until she found what she was looking for—the section on equivalent exchange.

It was the first law, and one of the first things she’d read about at the start of this venture but overlooked. Desperate and frustrated, and slightly afraid that she might not belong at any magical school, she returned to basics.

Alchemy was a unique subject, in that it was difficult for anyone to master if they didn’t have the proper balance. Many pureblood wizards, for example, struggled to comprehend the laws of Alchemy, because they hadn’t been exposed to the proper sciences.  _ Any kind of magicfolk, _ Aunt May had told her years ago,  _ that hides away from the No-Majs and their world with their ideas, is kidding themselves. There’s more of them then of us; and most of their ideas are actually pure genius. Do you know how many No-Maj things you have in your house? “’Lectric lights, toaster, microwave, car, and the telephone.”  _ Lian had answered then. Aunt May had nodded sagely.  _ And they’re not even to blend in; No-Majs can’t find your house, can they? Your parents are just smarter than most people.  _ She always claimed that she was doomed to be an Alchemist since the day she was born, being equally exposed to the No-Maj life through her brother and father, but able to submerge in the wizarding community via her mother, aunt, uncle and school. An Alchemist had to understand both worlds. To be skilled in Potions, Transfiguration, and Science. Purebloods could learn, of course, but it was more difficult for them to learn it the seven years they worked in school. Even May had gone to the Salem Witches Institution for extra study.

It was lucky she had, else Lian and her brothers and sister might not exist.

Finally, she located the right page, filled with notes and illustrations for what she needed to do to ‘pass’. Mouth dry, she withdrew her wand to point it at the circle inscribed on the paper, before pointing it in the air. She didn’t expect it work immediately, if at all; so when a fiery script began to appear where she traced her wand, she almost broke concentration out of surprise. Once the circle was complete, she checked the book, then held out her right hand, palm forward; she waved her wand and the circle shrunk before it etched itself onto her hand. It stung worse than a jellyfish, and she was glad the room was empty so no one heard the curse that escaped her mouth.

“What the heck are you doing?” Lian jumped about three feet in the air, turning to see Scott Dunaeva standing in the doorway.  _ Should’ve locked that. My bad. _

“Experimenting,” she answered casually. “What the heck are you doing?”

“Wondering how you got a book that clearly isn’t meant for you.” He said, frowning at the encyclopedia sized volume at her feet. He crossed the room and tried to look at her hand, but she shoved it into her robes.

“None of your business, Scott.”

“I can make it my business,” Lian detected a challenge in there somewhere.

“Whatever. You can’t stop me.” She withdrew the crystal vial and took it in her left hand, removed the stopper and poured the dust into her right palm. It looked so small and insignificant, reminiscent of how Lian felt in classes where she failed to perform magic properly. Scott asked a question but she was ignoring him so it didn't matter what he had said. Glancing at the book for confirmation, she clapped her hands together, focusing on the circle she’d seared into her palm.

At first, she felt like an idiot, as nothing happened. Then she saw a spark. And then another. Suddenly the circle expanded, shooting outwards from her palm in a wave of smoke, as her hand practically sizzled with magic.

When it stopped, she hesitated for quite a while before she opened her hands. What if she’d just made the dust disappear? At least Scott was a witness--whatever had just happened was the mark of a witch and not a Squib.

“What the heck was that?” asked Scott, staring at Lian’s hands as though afraid they were about to explode. Again. “W-what did you do?”

Lian slowly peeled her hands apart from the thumb to the pinky, peering at the object in her grasp cautiously. “Equivalent exchange…I hope…”

Instantly Scott was at her shoulder and staring at the thing in her palm. “What is that?”

Lian shrugged. “I have…no idea.” She dropped the item in the crystal vial where it made a soft *plink* and then replaced the stopper. “See ya later, Scott,” she said vaguely, picking up the heavy book, moving past him and out of the room. She had to tell Aunt May.

—

She intended to return the book to its shelf before Aunt May noticed it was missing, but unfortunately, she was overseeing a detention with a student Lian didn’t recognize when she walked into the office. Both May and the student, a boy with dark hair and hazel eyes, looked around as the solid metal door swung outward and revealed her standing there, clutching a book that was half her size. Lian sensed that it was improper for her to enter, but she did anyway, marched to the shelf where the sizable gap was waiting for her, and returned  _ Alchemic Law _ to its place.

“Ms. Kowalski what in the name of Merlin were you doing with that book?” Aunt May demanded, her tone serious. Lian noticed that she was trying to be professional by using titles, but it was slightly defeated by the fact that she would now be obliged to return the favor.

“I was returning your book, Professor Kowalski. I borrowed it for the evening without your permission, but was able to accomplish the task you set for me. Should I report to you tonight or wait until tomorrow?”

“Wait—” the boy looked from Lian to May as the surnames flew around. Lian didn’t blame him—no one would guess by looking at them that they were related. Her bone structure took after the Strother’s, not her father’s side of the family.

“You will take a seat and join Mr. Quince in detention.” May said sharply.

“On what grounds, ma’am?” she added the pronoun quickly.

“Stealing from a teacher,” Aunt May gestured to a chair and desk that had not been there a second ago. It was placed beside the aforementioned Mr. Quince, who looked bewildered. “Sit.”

Sensing this was a battle she shouldn’t try to fight, Lian sat, but glared at Aunt May the entire way down. “Am I to write lines, ma’am?” That’s what Mr. Quince appeared to be doing.

“There’s a line I’d like you to memorize, unfortunately there isn’t a piece of parchment in the world that would fit it all.” May muttered under her breath. “No, instead you’re going to rearrange my bookshelves. Presently they are Z-A by author, I should like them to be A-Z by title. You will remain in your seat and only use magic.” She declared with a decidedly smug expression. “I have a staff meeting to attend. Please make some progress in my absence.”

_ Oh sweet cheese. _ Lian gulped, withdrawing her wand from her robes. Her first attempt at getting all the books off the shelves in one smooth motion failed miserably. Only a leaflet on making Alchemy your career flopped onto the rug, and that could have been the rush of air that came in as the heavy door shut behind Aunt May. She glanced towards the boy, who was watching her with raised eyebrows.

“Pitiful.” He muttered, before taking up his quill and returning to his lines. Lian tried to see what he was writing, but he was so bent over his work his head and shoulder kept getting in the way.

She turned back to the bookshelves, her face burning, and tried again. And again. And again. Around the seventeenth attempt she was ready to set fire to the small library, but couldn’t remember the spell, when Mr. Quince had a suggestion. He got her attention with a small cough. Turning on him she growled, “What!”

“Try  _ locomotor, _ ” he said patiently, not looking up from his lines.

“ _ I am! _ ” she lied, glaring back at the books and concentrating.  _ Locomotor books! _ There was a slight tremble through her wand, copied by a shiver through one shelf on the right, and then four books skipped into the air. Lian was so relieved she accidentally released the spell and they dropped to the rug with several thuds.

“Someone wasn’t paying attention to Butler the first week of Charms,” she heard Quince chuckle behind her. She refused to look at him, not wanting to see a taunt or mocking expression on his face.  _ He doesn’t know a thing about me! How dare he laugh at my failure! I’ll show him I…wait. _

She closed her eyes and tapped into his mind. It was almost too easy, like his mind was a free scoop of ice cream. He was young, probably her age—which meant he was only a first year. He’d gotten into trouble with May because he’d punched a student in her class—no, during her class. He was in her Alchemy class and he was only a first year. There was more—he was also in the Wandlore class and the Self-Transfiguration class, and Ancient Runes! All the advanced classes?! What kind of sick genius was this guy? She dug further, seeing his family, his siblings and there were many, his mother who seemed to be a very domineering woman, no actual mention of his father—because he’d never known him. He’d been reading all his older siblings textbooks since he learned how to read—school was basically inessential at this point, he could probably take the NEWT exams tomorrow and pass with honors. Likely the only thing holding him back was his attitude problem, Lian felt his anger more than anything, and something else…something he didn’t want anyone to know about…something dark.

She withdrew from his mind with a gasp, and almost fell out of her chair. Her head was spinning, or maybe it was the room, either way it was nauseating. Vaguely, she heard Quince speaking to her.

“What?” she mumbled, turning to look at him.

“I asked if you were feeling okay, you went all quiet and then jerked back—were you having an episode or are you just that bad at magic?” Lian couldn’t tell if he was concerned or dismissive.

“I just realized something,” she replied vaguely.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing important. What are you in here for?” she asked, only to change the subject. She’d already seen the memory of what landed him in here.

“Got in a fight. Could’ve been worse though—my punishment, not the fight. Professor Kowalski’s a lenient teacher, she’s probably one of my favorites.” He gave her a searching look, and Lian knew he wanted her to explain his favorite teacher’s relation to her, a random student who steals advanced books about subjects she’s not taking.

“Hm. Well you know why I’m here so let’s get back to it then,” she said brusquely, swiveling in her seat to try and move the books once more.

“Oh, come on,” he said from behind her. “We both know you’re not gonna make any progress with that anyway. Chat with me.”

_ Oh you little— _ “I’m only a first year, practical magic is still a work in progress.”

“I’m a first year too, and I could have it done in under two minutes.”

“Yeah, right,” Lian scoffed. “Big talk from the guy who doesn’t have to do it.”

“I really could though,” he said confidently.

Lian glanced at him over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Uh huh. Sure.”

“Don’t believe me? Watch this!” He withdrew his wand and jabbed it at the bookshelves. All at once the books began to move, shuffling themselves and skipping up and down the length of the bookcases to reorganize themselves the way Aunt May had instructed. Lian watched with a mixture of annoyance and dismay. Once every book had found its new spot, and the whole office had been coated in displaced dust, she turned back to face Quince, who wore a smirk on his face. “That’s how it’s done. Now you—” he went to undo all that effort with another jab of his wand, but Lian disarmed him quickly—it was the one spell her wand could do without any hiccups. She caught his wand in her right hand and tucked it into her robes. It was her turn to smirk.

“Thanks.”

“Give me my wand back!”

“No.” Lian didn’t remember standing, but somehow, they were facing off; he was trying to advance and she was ducking around him.

“Give it, you were supposed to do all that not—” he dived for her while he was mid-speech, a trick she knew well. She dodged just in time, and he collided with the heavy metal door. “Ow.”

“You were the one who was so desperate to show off. If you weren’t here in the first place I wouldn’t have had to do any of that anyway. The only reason May gave me this sad excuse for a punishment was because she didn’t want to show any special treatment towards me.”

He turned on her, rubbing his forehead where a big red mark was forming. “Did you just call her by her first name?”

“Yeah, she’s my aunt. I couldn’t call her ‘professor’ with a straight face, even if I wanted to.” 

Quince looked rather taken aback by this revelation. He hesitated, then said, “The book you had with you. Why did you take it?”

Lian slowly reached into her robes for the crystal vial. She held it up for him to see, saying, “She gave me a challenge about three weeks ago. I was out of ideas so I borrowed the book.”

He approached her, but she backed up until her backside hit the desk. “Let me see,”

She hid it in her hand. “Only if you promise you won’t reset the bookshelves.”

He frowned at her, sighing. She knew his curiosity would outweigh his morality. “Fine. Give it.” She placed the crystal vial reluctantly in his hand, and he held it up to his eyes. They looked green under direct light, but earlier, when he was upset she’d disarmed him, they’d been brown. “It looks like a piece of a star.”

“Yeah, right,” Lian rolled her eyes. No way her aunt had allowed her to walk around carrying stardust in her pocket. What if she’d lost it?

“No, really, she showed us pictures of fallen stars in class a few weeks ago. They’re extremely rare and have untold magical capabilities. What did she tell you to do with it?”

“When she gave it to me it was nothing more than dust.” Lian answered, trying to hint at how ridiculous he sounded.

“And you restored it, how?” He glanced towards the bookcase and his eyes widened. “Equivalent exchange? Nice.”

“She wanted me to learn something from this, though what, I have no idea.”  _ Now, why did I go and tell him that? _

“I could tell you what she told us in that lesson,” he offered.

“In exchange for what?”

“You can tell me why you really can’t perform magic, though I’ve already come to several conclusions on my own.” he went on before she could object. “She told us about how stars were made. The time it takes, and even how rare it is to find a piece of one on earth. And then she tied it off by saying that we could all become great Alchemists if we put in the time and effort. It wasn’t gonna happen overnight, but it would be worth it in the end.”

“Great. Well I’m probably not going to be an Alchemist because I can’t perform basic magic, as you saw. That doesn’t mean I can’t throw a punch.” she grumbled. 

He licked his lips before speaking. “I think by letting you figure out the stardust, she was hoping you would realize that even though you’re not making the leaps and bounds in magic that you expected, you still have a lot of time ahead of you. Maybe she thinks you’re inclined to throw in the towel, but whatever it is, you need to chill out.”

He made sense, but she didn’t like it. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“Nor you me.” he gave a friendly smile. “What is your name?”

“...Lian.”

“I’m Adam.” He went to return to his desk before he looked back at her. “Can I have my wand back now?”


	38. Animal

Once November settled around Ilvermorny castle, the castle became unbearably cold at all times. Freshly laundered robes appeared in their bedrooms, made of a thicker material and with longer lengths to help keep them warm. A few students with bad blood circulation took to wearing extra pairs of socks and gloves in the corridors.   
For Kamau’s class, he had them meet in the cave beneath the school. Lian was grateful for this, because the heat from the water made it the warmest spot on the whole mountain, right after the center of a fire. Unfortunately when she arrived down there with the rest of the class, the entire place was frigid and unwelcoming. The few students present stood in a huddle, trying to stay warm like a raft of penguins. His lessons to this point had merely covered the world history of Animagi; Lian suspected he was stalling until he gathered his full first year class. By this time he’d collected her, Scott, Aisha, Jason, Matt, Vera, Anders, and of course Adam.   
Kamau called for them to sit on the cave floor. Lian hissed as the chilled surface made contact with the back of her legs. Matt made a point of sitting beside her, while Aisha took the other side. Vera sat with Anders to her back left while Jason sat directly behind. The raft formation remained, even as Scott and Adam sat in front of her.   
Kamau began to speak in his thick accent, which Lian only assumed she was understanding correctly. His accent became thicker when he talked for a long period of time, for instance: lectures. He told a story about the first Animagus in Uganda, how blending in with the animal kingdom became an essential part of African wizarding survival. He then demonstrated his own transformation, shifting into a large, full-tusked elephant. He waved his trunk at them before releasing a loud trumpet. Lian covered her ears, suddenly understanding why he held class in the cave. He wouldn’t have fit into the classroom without knocking down all four walls first.   
“Dos anyone know da ‘istory of Animagi in America?” Professor Kamau asked after he shifted back into a man.  
Lian’s hand was in the air seconds after Adam’s. Kamau nodded at the boy to answer. “The indigenous people of North America had legends of evil magicians who could transform into an animal at will--these were called Skinwalkers. The story was that they gained these powers through human sacrifice, usually a family member. While the legend was based in fact because Native American Animagi did actually exist-there were enough No-Maj men who were parading as seers that spread the fear and falsehoods as far and wide as they could.”  
“Skinwalkers. All you had to say, was Skinwalkers.” Lian muttered under her breath, while Kamau praised Adam for his thoroughly in depth answer.   
“Divide in two groups of four,” Kamau instructed. “One will discuss the advantages of becoming an animal at will, the other will assess the disadvantages.”  
Moments later, Lian found herself facing Aisha, Matt, and Anders. She hadn’t spoken to Matt in a few weeks and she’d never said a word to Anders. Aisha smiled shyly, and began to sign rapidly. “One of the advantages I think would be the ability to communicate with animals.”   
Lian signed, “I’m not sure it works that way, at least not in the way you’d imagine.”   
Anders and Matt watched their exchange in mild confusion. “What is happening right now?” the latter asked, eying Lian as she signed her reply as she spoke aloud.  
“Aisha’s deaf,” Anders adopted a look of comprehension while Matte devolved to annoyance.  
“Just when did you learn ASL--” he began but she cut him off.  
“We don’t have time for this. What are the pros of becoming an animal at will?”   
Anders had a few ideas that Lian agreed with, Matt was only pessimistic as usual while Aisha remained innocently naive about what it meant to transform into an animal. After about fifteen minutes of this, Kamau recalled their attention.  
“Debate.” was all the instruction he gave, and on some level it was all they needed.   
Adam, Vera, Jason and Scott all looked determined, but their expressions were not unlike those who had just felt bile creeping up the esophagus.   
Lian spread her hands in a welcoming gesture. “You can go first.”  
“Thanks,” said Adam, smiling confidently. “Other than the obvious difficulty of acquiring the skill of Animagi; it has been known to end in disaster more often than not. Examples range from permanent half-human, half-animal mutations, to the incapability to return to human form once the deed is done.”  
“Not only that,” Vera spoke up from his side, “but the form an Animagus takes is not chosen individually, rather it is the one thing magic cannot change. Once a wizard develops this skill, there is no changing the animal they transform into.” She glanced at Adam as if asking for confirmation on whether she said that correctly, and not to Lian’s surprise, he nodded slightly.  
I’m surprised he didn’t write out notecards for them to memorize.   
“Many wizarding folk believe,” Scott picked up where Vera left off. Lian was well aware that Jason was being quiet on the matter, likely because the idea intrigued him so much he couldn’t find an inner dislike for it. “That their time and efforts are better spent on more applicable skills, as the practicality of self-transfiguration is limited.”  
“In short,” Adam said with a note of finality. “We conclude that becoming an Animagus is dangerous and a waste of magic.” He nodded at Lian. “Your argument?”  
Lian’s group pushed her forward, which she neither minded nor needed; Aisha still didn’t understand half of their conversation, Matt hated talking in front of people and Anders was a boy of very few words. “Right. Taking your objections and bearing them in mind, we still stand by the positives of the Animagus ability. The process is indeed long and arduous, and has the potential to backfire-but we’re masters of magic. Just about every subject we tackle has the potential to backfire. If you tried living life without getting a little broken here and there you’d never do anything. I notice that you all used the term ‘skill’ when describing Animagi, and while you’re correct, it is a skill inasmuch as it is something to be learned, not passed on; once it is obtained it becomes an ability, the definition of which is something that can be done without assistance, at will, without the use of a wand. We’ve all dueled in DADA classes, we know what its like to watch our wand fly out of our hands while we’re helpless to stop it or fight back after its gone-” she gave Adam a smug glance before continuing on. “Imagine that scenario ten years in the future. You’re a fully-fledged witch or wizard, powerful spells at your command so long as you can keep ahold of that little stick you’ve got in your hand. What if you lose it? What if it breaks? What happens when your wand is taken and you’ve no chance to retrieve it? What use is a witch or wizard without their wand?”  
“In ten years? I plan to have learned wandless magic by then-” said Adam cockily.   
“Shut up. Now-” before Lian could continue, Kamau stepped between the groups.   
“Well said, all of you.” he said, his dark eyes taking in all eight of them. “Now is the time to decide. I have selected each of you for my class, and you have had ample time to weigh the consequences of this study. Take my class and I guarantee in three years from this day you could each become Animagi. But I cannot teach those who do not wish to learn. How many of you will stay?”  
They looked around at each other, and Lian saw hesitance in nearly every face. Jason was the first to speak up. “I’ll study. I mean, transforming into an animal? That’d be sick!”  
“I’m out,” said Matt, stepping away from the group. “I didn’t realize this was a practical class--I thought it was just the theory.”  
That’s not true. Lian thought, frowning at him. You just want less classes with Jason.  
“Me too,” said Vera, approaching Matt. “Sorry, Professor.”  
“I’ll stay.” said Anders, surprising just about everyone.   
“So will I,” Adam looked across to Lian, raising a single eyebrow. Lian looked to Aisha, who was shuffling her feet. At length, she signed her answer, and approached Vera and Matt, shortly followed by Scott.   
Kamau was watching her closely. On the one hand, it’s not like I’m in any other advanced classes...on the other, I’ve already got one magnificent ability I can barely handle under my belt...on the third hand that doesn’t exist, if I manage to transform into an animal, I might finally get a break from diving into the emotions and memories of others. I wonder what that’s like...but is it worth the risk? She reached into her robes and withdrew her wand. She looked at the base, still unsure of what the animal head carved there was supposed to be. She tossed it up, watching it spin through the air before catching it again, by the tip, where the animal head faced Kamau.   
“Stay it is.” she murmured, turning her back on Matt, Aisha, Vera and Scott.   
“Shoulda known,” she heard Matt say.

-

She pulled Adam aside after Kamau finally released them to go to their Houses for dinner. “What do you think you’re doing?”  
He raised his eyebrows at her. “I thought I was about to enjoy some chicken pot pie before I started in on my homework, but apparently that’s going to have to wait.” Taking in Lian’s irritable expression, he added, “You’re not going to take my wand away again, are you?”  
“No.” she said patiently. “And no. I want to know what you think you’re going to accomplish by taking Kamau’s class?”  
Adam lowered his eyebrows and frowned. “I don’t believe that's any of your business.”  
Yeah, well, I'm making it my business. Lian refused to let him leave, even going so far as to dragging him into the library to prevent him from just walking away from her. “Look, you have to know that Self-Transfiguration isn't going to work out for you.”   
Glancing around at the tall shelves, his reply was evasive. “Is that so?”  
Great. It's not like I can come out and say it. “I know what you are.” Fudge!   
He blinked slowly at Lian, and while he was excellent at controlling his face muscles, his mind was wide open. He hadn’t expected her to say what was on her mind, neither had he anticipated that he would be found out. This was only their second time speaking to one another, after all. “Do you?”  
His mind gave way to another voice, that neither belonged to neither of them, well not technically. It’s whispers spooked Lian more than she’d ever admit, but she held firm, determined to see this through. “Yes.”  
On the chance that anyone else in the library was dropping eaves, Lian reached for a book on the shelf above us, having to stand on the tips of her toes to get there. Heaving the volume into her embrace, she heard Adam mutter behind her, “What is it with you and freakishly heavy books?”  
“Shut up.” she grumbled, flipping through the book until she located the correct chapter, on page three-hundred and ninety-four. Tapping the chapter heading, she looked up at Adam, who was watching her instead of the page. “See?”  
“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, eyes not leaving her face. They looked green again, with a few specks of gold in them now. He moved closer, and Lian’s irrational side told her to back up, but her stubborn side won out and she stood still. “Are you scared of me?”  
“I’m not confronting you,” she said plainly. “I’m emphasizing my argument that Kamau’s class will be a waste of your time.”  
“He teaches his students to become Animagi, yes,” Adam said, beginning to agree, but there was something else in his voice. “But there is an advantage in understanding the process and signs of an Animagus, even without achieving that skill. So why don’t you get off your high horse, and let me worry about my education and latch you struggle with yours.”  
Lian felt her face grow warm. “That wasn’t necessary; I only thought that if you were trying to keep up an appearance there wasn’t any point-”  
“Or maybe you just want to be in a class that I’m not already taking, to prove that you have something over me.” He shot back, and for a moment she couldn’t reply. “That’s what I thought.”   
Still keeping his eyes trained on her face as though he was trying to memorize it, he reached a hand down and closed the Defense Against Magical Creatures book with a snap. He was halfway past her when her hand moved on its own and grabbed his arm, and for a moment they stayed locked in a sideways glare, silently speaking volumes.   
After a minute, or possibly several sunlit days, Adam voiced the one question that was gnawing away at him inside. “How did you know?”  
It was Lian’s turn to look smug. “I might not have mastered Charms yet, but I’m actually quite perceptive. There’s very little I don’t know.”  
Adam mirrored her expression, raising a single eyebrow and quirking up the corner of his mouth. “Like how it’s not you that can’t do magic, it’s your wand that won’t?”  
Lian blinked, completely thrown by his words. “What?”  
“Good evening.” he said with a grin, pulling his arm out of her grip and disappearing down the aisle and out of the library. She was left standing there on the edge of the school library, with no answers and all the questions.   
Not quite how I thought this conversation would go. She thought, hefting up the book and shoving it back onto its shelf.  
-  
Shikoba Wolfe wasn’t an easy teacher to find, particularly because she wasn't in his class, or had the slightest idea where his office was, or even saw him on a regular basis. Being as stubborn as a mule, Lian refused to ask Adam where she could find him, so it wasn't until December that she located the Native American wand maker, completely on accident, at that.  
In taking a wrong turn to the girls’ bathroom, she stumbled upon him reading a dusty old book in the teacher’s lounge--also something she didn’t think existed. Without thinking she mumbled a hasty apology and ran to take care of her more pressing problem. After she’d finished though, Lian realized she’d finally found the ever elusive professor, and paced up and down the corridor, trying to remember which door she’d stumbled upon in the first place.  
“The teacher’s lounge is three doors to your left,” said a deep voice from behind her, causing her to jump about six inches off the ground. “But I’ll wager your grievance lies with me.”  
Lian spun around to face Professor Wolfe’s torso, tilting her head back until she could stare up his beak of a nose. His long hair was braided today, his tri-colored robes with their patterns stirring her thoughts into wonder. She’d recognized it that first night when she’d come to the castle, but she realized it once again as she gazed at him. He looked so wonderfully out of place, it was as if he were a fraction of her imagination brought to life. “I need a new wand.”  
“You have one.” he replied, his dark eyes penetrating her soul.  
“Maybe,” she reluctantly took out her wand and held it up for him to see. “It won’t work. I’m failing at least three classes because of it.”  
The old wand maker gently took her wand and inspected it briefly. “I made this wand in 1975, upon the recommendation of a young man. He was unable to claim it after it was crafted, due to unforeseen circumstances, but I kept it all the same, believing that one day it would call to a new master.” He traced his index finger along the magical instrument, explaining to her more, “I carved it from pine wood, which means that this wand has chosen an independent, individual master who could be perceived as a loner, intriguing and perhaps mysterious. Pine wands enjoy being used creatively, and unlike some others, will adapt to new methods and spells.”  
“You talk about wands,” Lian began cautiously. “Like they can think for themselves.”  
“Why shouldn’t they? If you were destined to spend your existence in the hands of one person forever, wouldn’t you like to at least be the one who decides which hands you fall into?” Wolfe quizzed, his expression quite serious. Lian nodded mutely, still not quite comprehending one thing.  
“So if it chose me, why won’t it work for me?”  
“Ah, that’s where the core comes into play,” the wand maker stated. “This young man who ordered the carving of this wand, in the last days of my work, came to me specifically because I was and am the only wand maker who worked with thunderbird tail feathers; they always made for an especially powerful wand. Powerful, but difficult to master, and good for transfiguration work.” He placed the wand back in her hands. “Nothing worthwhile is ever easily obtained, Ms. Kowalski. If you really want a different wand, to take the simpler path, then maybe you are not as independent and individual as this special wand seemed to believe. It’s not working as you hope because you are not working the way it hoped.”  
He gave her a meaningful nod, and she looked down at the wand in her hand, doubt still etched into the forefront of her mind. Her eyes rested momentarily on the carved animal head and she looked up to ask about it, only to find that the wand maker had vanished from the hallway.   
Alright then, Wand, I think it’s time you and I arranged a core to core, she thought determinedly. I’m tired of feeling like a Squib, and watching me fail repeatedly can’t be fun for you either.  
The wand did not respond to her attempts to communicate, but if nothing else, she felt comfort from the words of the wand maker.


	39. Ollie

The fog surrounded her completely. It was so thick, she could only see a few steps in either direction. Where were her parents? Her brother? Where was…

Bringing her hands up to cup her mouth, she yelled, “Mommy? Daddy?” Her voice was small and high pitched--she was young, very young. A chorus of her own voice echoed back to her, or rather the fog threw her own words around, refusing to let her cry penetrate the air. She heard herself whispering back eerily, mockingly,  _...Mommy...Daddy… _ Undeterred, she tried again, louder this time. “Mommy I’m here!”  _ I’m here!...here!... _

She turned slowly on the spot. There was something about this moment that was very familiar. She knew she wasn’t eleven, she was five years old. She was lost--she’d been out walking with her parents and her brothers when she’d been distracted by something and left the path. She wanted nothing more than to return to them now. Julianne took a few steps forward, doubted herself, and then turned back. She’d come from this direction...or maybe it had been that way. Where was her family?

“Daddy! Daddy where are you?” she called again, only encouraging the fog to mock by bouncing her own voice back. She thought she saw something large out of the corner of her eyes, but even as she turned around, swearing she heard breath that didn’t belong to her lungs, she saw nothing. The breathing was growing louder in her ear, and as she swiveled on the spot she felt something pierce her stomach. Looking down she saw a large claw covered in dark red liquid protruding from her side. She looked up into the face of a giant, silvery thing with lots of sharp teeth, before it was consumed by fire and ran off. Placing a small hand over her wound, she remembered falling to the ground in a heap. Someone gathered her in their arms, someone in black robes with crest over their heart.

“Merlin!” It was a boy. An older boy...he sounded foreign. “You weren’t kidding. Come on, stay awake!” Julianne’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to remain conscious.

“Don’t...leave…” she said faintly. 

“It’s okay,” he assured her swiftly. “I’m not going anywhere.” She saw him wave a wand over her body, and felt the pain fade away. 

“Who are you?” she asked. She couldn’t see his face clearly--her vision didn’t seem to be working at all. Forcing her eyes open wide, she saw his head, that did not have facial features. 

She awoke with a jerk, staring up into the eyes of her Uncle Anatoly. “You dreaming, sweet’art?” 

Lian sniffed loudly, finding her hands clutching her side still. She lifted her shirt a fraction to look at the scar that marred her skin. Six years ago she’d been attacked by a hide behind in the forest on Long Island. She’d been rescued by a wizard she didn’t know, and hadn’t seen since. Her parents found her lying alone in the woods, unconscious and amateurishly healed, but alive. Her mother tried to use magic to remove the ugly scar on several occasions but Lian wouldn’t let her. She kept it, to help her remember the faceless wizard. But why had she dreamed so clearly about it? 

Anatoly shifted her feet so he could take a seat upon the sofa, worry written all over his face. Sitting up to face him properly, she said, “Did I miss the gingerbread house?”

“Yeah, but if you hurry you can help demolish the walls. I myself salvaged the chimney.” He held up a rectangular cookie, covered in frosting and gumdrops before he finished it in one bite. “School tuckering you out, or it is this bloody weather?” He gesticulated toward the front window where they could watch the snow slowly burying the city. 

Anatoly lived in Australia, where he worked with and protected No-Majs from Antipodean Opaleye’s. Sure, the outback was famous for its large and dangerous creatures--but the majority of the population had no idea that their deserts played host to a multitude of magical wildlife. Great Uncle Newt nearly had kittens when Anatoly showed him pictures of the dragons. When Lian and Jacob had been younger, Anatoly used to promise to bring them a dragon egg for their birthday’s. 

“School. Definitely school,” she replied at last. But she didn’t want to talk about classes, or the frustration she got from knowing all the answers but never being able to beat out Quince for participation in class. And he couldn’t even read the answers from the teacher like she could! “Hey...what do you remember about the day we...the day I was born?”

Her uncle smiled sadly beneath his beard. “Gave us all a scare. You came early, couldn’t wait to come and say hi. Tiny, wrinkly thing you were, loud as a banshee and as small as cheese roll.” 

“What about Ollie?” The question was meant to catch him off-guard, and it did the job well. Lian often resented how the adults in her life wanted to pretend her brother didn’t exist. It was easier for them, but so much worse for her. 

“Oh, er, well...little bub was happy to let you do all the talking at first. Don’t recall hearing any sort of gibberish from the little ankle biter until he could form complete sentences.” Anatoly guffawed as he began to remember more clearly. “I remember I came to visit when you were turning two years old, and you were trying to convince May to adopt Jacob because ‘you didn’t  _ need _ another baby.’ That’s exactly what the cheeky bugger told me.” 

Lian chuckled. She liked hearing stories about her brother. It made his absence easier. “I wonder how upset he was when Mom told him Seraphina was on the way.”

Anatoly flinched as though she’d slapped him, but she couldn’t fathom why. She’d been very young when it had happened to Ollie, and only recalled flashes of the incident, which was weird because she’d been the exact same age when it happened as she’d been when she’d been attacked. Selective memory? Or perhaps the former was too terrible.

“Yeah...well, by then you two were experts at being the big sibling, it was Jacob’s turn to panic.” he said, shifting in his seat. A small part of Lian knew she shouldn’t. But the shaken, longing and scared part of her was overwhelming. Anatoly was hiding something. Fortunately, she had the means to find out exactly what. 

Under the pretense of cuddling, Lian closed her eyes and reached out to his mind. It was as easy as breathing, he was so open and vulnerable. 

The memory that was right up at the top, the memory he couldn’t suppress but would never share aloud, that was the one she reached for--immersing herself into it as though she had been an innocent bystander. 

_ It was bright, and it took her a moment to recognize that she was in Central Park. She watched the young family cross the Gapstow bridge, the two boys holding hands for safety purposes, while Anatoly could be seen chasing her, as she was when she was little.  _

_ Jacob kept leaning toward the water, pointing at the duck and crying, “Ducky! Wanna swim wiff ducky!” while Ollie continued to heave him away from the edge of the bridge. Amaya and David strolled along behind the four of them--Mom was huge as though she’d unlocked her jaw and swallowed a prize pumpkin. Lian wouldn’t have known it then but she recognized now that her mother was attempting to induce labor by going for a walk. _

_ Anatoly chased little Julianne, pretending to be some monster or possibly an auror, it was difficult to tell which. Suddenly, someone Lian couldn’t see on the other side of the bridge lifted her younger-self up, with unknown intentions. Julianne screamed, and suddenly, a low hanging branch came to life and whacked the stranger until they dropped Julianne and fled. Anatoly debated whether to give chase, but he settled for gathering his niece in his arms and comforting her. Amaya rushed over to assess whether or not her child was injured, when she gasped loudly and placed her hands on her stomach.   _

_Ever the dutiful husband, Dad fetched a random object, a portkey Lian realized, holding it out for her to touch. She did so, looking at Anatoly with a fierce glare. “Get the children to their grandparents right away! David will come for them when it’s over.”_ _  
__“Don’t worry about a-” he began to reply, but in that moment, Mom and Dad were whisked away._ _  
__Jacob hiccuped at Ollie’s side. “Magic!”_ _  
___“Shh!” Ollie slapped a hand over his little brother’s mouth. “Not ‘post to tell!”

_ Lian moved with the little group as they left the park. She didn’t remember any of this. She had a bad feeling she was about to find out why. _

_ Anatoly held little Julianne in his left arm, picking up Jacob with his right, while Ollie grabbed his coat pocket and followed closely. Just as they reached the sidewalk, watching the cars pass by, Ollie became distracted by a cluster of pigeons a few steps away. Anatoly was hailing a cab with as best as he could, while Julianne sat up on his shoulders, waving at nearly everybody who looked their way. Ollie side stepped cautiously, until he was sure that it was okay. Then he spooked the pigeons, so that they beat their wings and rose up from the ground a mere fraction before landing back down, where he was free to scare them all over again.  _

_ Unseen to the little group, (the uncle and the sister trying to flag down a cabby brave enough to take three young children, the youngest soon to be middle child sucking his thumb, and the oldest boy goofing off,) the stranger approached, his hat pulled low over his face and his jacket collar upturned. He neared his target, grabbed the little boys’ wrist before turning and vanishing on the spot. The loud crack that sounded off the pavement made the entire flock of pigeons shoot into the sky, a yellow cab finally pulled up to the curb; Jacob began to cry loudly while his sister nearly toppled off Anatoly’s shoulders.  _ _   
_ _ Anatoly spun around, clutching his niece and nephew close. “What happened? Where’s the other ankle biter?” his dark eyes scanned the street and sidewalk, not seeing his second nephew anywhere. “Oliver!” he yelled, ignoring the impatient cab driver. “OLIVER!!” _

Lian jerked out of her uncle’s vivid memory, her face wet with tears she didn’t remember shedding. 

“Sweet’art?” Anatoly spoke, but it was as though from a great distance away. “What’s wrong?”

_ Oh nothing. I just found out that every adult in my life has been lying to me for six years. No big deal. _ Shaking, she dried her cheeks and got to her feet. “I’m...I just…” she could not convince her tongue to work. She could barely move out of the room. What was the proper reaction--what were you supposed to do when you found out that your twin brother wasn’t resting in peace, but lost and forgotten?

The Christmas holidays had never looked darker to Lian.

  
  


She was lying in wait for her mother when she returned home. Jacob had finished off the eggnog last night when he mistook it for milk. Cereal doesn’t get much thicker than that. The moment Amaya stomped through the door, shaking the snowflakes out of her hair, she approached cautiously, helping her mother slip out of her winter coat.

“Thank you sweet,” Amaya sighed as she removed her scarf and hung it on the coat rack. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Oliver?” Lian asked bluntly. Amaya gazed at her, her mouth slightly agape.

“What did you say?” She whispered softly. 

“I was always told that he died young. I can still remember him you know, even if you and dad tried your best to make us forget. But that’s not the whole story, is it?” Lian was shivering but it wasn’t from the cold. This was raw anger, and it didn’t entirely belong to her either. When she was in a volatile and emotional state, she tended to draw similar feelings from those around her. Nothing was more terrifying or raw than a mother’s emotions. “How long did it take for you and Dad to give up hope, huh? How do you know he’s not still out there, like one of those kids on the milk cartons!?”

“Julianne, who in the world talked to you about-” Amaya paused, gazing into her eldest’s eyes, and understanding dawned over her shock. “You pulled it from Anatoly, didn’t you.” She took Lian by her shoulders and pulled her into the sitting room, where Babcia and Dziadek were decorating the tree. “I will tell you everything you want to know about Oliver, but you have to promise not to shout. You know how it upsets Gramma.”

Lian shot an impatient glare at the back of Babcia’s head before sighing deeply and rearranging her facial expressions. She went from angsty kid to appalled pug, but her mother accepted it. “What happened to him?”

“If you looked into Ana’s mind, you know that he was kidnapped by a wizard.” Amaya ran a hand through her hair.  “I was in labor for the next twelve hours, but once Anatoly had taken you and Jacob to Gramma’s house, he went to MACUSA to report the incident, and then hit the streets himself. Your father and I weren’t even told about it until a day after, and by then it was too late. The aurors didn’t have a name, nobody had seen the abduction. The trace for underage magic had just barely been put on Oliver because that morning he displayed his first sign of magic--when the stranger picked you up, it was Oliver’s magic that made the tree branch attack him.”

“So the aurors were able to find him using the trace?” Lian asked doubtfully. 

Her mother wore an expression beyond heartbreak, beyond sorrow. Lian found herself staring at and absorbing the emotions of a broken woman. She was thinking things that were beyond her eleven years, and she didn’t know how to stop them. Her mother was a woman destined to raise three kids, knowing in her heart that she was meant to raise more. She was a woman who was afraid to have more children even though she dreamed of a big family as a child. She was a woman who was terrified of losing another child to a nameless phantom who could come and go without being caught.

“The trace tapered out the moment he was taken away from Anatoly. He wasn’t taken anywhere, he just...disappeared. I can’t tell you how many times I screamed at the head of the department missing and abduction cases to bring back my son…” She sniffed. “I’m not allowed down there anymore. Do I still yearn to have my baby boy back? Of course! But what was I supposed to do? Retreat into myself and neglect my family?” She placed her hand on Lian’s cheek. “I’m sorry I never talked to you about him like this before. I wish I knew when I married your father that there was a chance I’d have a kid with natural Legilimency.”

“Do you think Ollie would’ve had it too?” Lian asked softly, leaning into her mother, her body feeling completely drained of energy. 

“I don’t know.” Amaya rested her cheek atop her daughter’s head. “According to Gramma it usually shows up in the Goldstein women. . .”

And just like that, Lian let her mother off the hook. But secretly, silently, she vowed to never forget her brother. . .and that one day, she would find out the whole story of his disappearance.


	40. The Face

She’d only ever dreamed about her faceless wizard once before, and it had been a daydream then. When she was six years old, nearly a year after her encounter with a hidebehind, she saw a picture of her second cousins when they were in school at Pigpimples. It was then she realized that her faceless wizard had been British, and around school age. Since it was her only clue, it became her mission in life, her dream, her drive to go to Pigpimples and find out more. 

Now, five years later, she was enrolled at what she believed to be the wrong school. And according to everyone she’d ever asked, her grades would need to reach Pluto in order for her to be acknowledged for a transfer. She forewent any social interaction--which was difficult because her House could be very interactive--and buckled down on her studies. She found herself bickering with Quince over the proper use of a freezing shield. (As first years, they’d spent the first few months practicing only defensive magic. They wouldn’t learn dueling, sparring or knock-back spells until second year.)

“If you’re already focusing to conjure the shield, why should you need to concentrate on the longevity also-” she heard herself saying one afternoon in the library. “-on some level, it’s all relative.”

The Wampus shook his head. “Not entirely. If you don’t think about how long you want to protect yourself, then you’ll deflect a single jinx and then be completely exposed.”

“No I won’t,” Lian replied mulishly. “I’ll duck.”

Quince laughed at her. “I’d like to see that experiment go awry.”

“Too bad I won’t be around next year. Otherwise you’d be able to have a duel with me.”

He raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “How’s that? You planning on dropping out or something?”

Lian shook her head. “I’m going to Hogwarts next year. I’ll beat the school records for first year exams, and then I’m transferring.” The bell rang, signalling the end of their break. She packed up her books and made to leave.

“Transferring?” Quince repeated.

“Yep. Call it what you will; relocation, I’m headed in a different direction--but I’m applying just as soon as exams are done.” She turned on her heel and left him sitting there, where he’d likely be late for his Wandlore class, meanwhile she planned on being early to Charms. She had a lot to catch up on.

  
  


The tension that spread through the castle just before exams were due to begin was palpable. It was not so much the calm before the storm as it was the sucker punch to the diaphragm. The intake of breath before you retaliate, the sound of thunder that foretold of lightning.  

The eve of exams, something sparked. Lian had a question about Transfiguration that nobody in her house could answer, so she descended from the loft and was halfway to the Alchemy wing to ask Aunt May, when someone popped into the middle of the corridor, mid-sprint, and collided with her. They fell in a tangle, and Lian kicked the other away as she jumped to her feet.

Pulling her wand out, she pointed it at the guy as he got to his feet as well. He was about a foot taller than her, had dark hair and eyes like the edge of a blade. His hair was long and fell over and around most of his face in a way that both irked and intrigued Lian, despite the initial panic he’d incited within her. She couldn’t take her eyes away from any detail in his face, the sharp angles and the cheekbones. It was very important that she memorize this face.

“Blimey,” the spell she was under was broken in a single word. The guy was British. He couldn’t possibly be whom she thought- “you’re a lot younger than I’d hoped. I must’ve come too soon.” He looked around at the strange walls of the Alchemy wing, his eyebrows coming together in bewilderment. “Where are you?” He looked down his nose at her, eying her blue and cranberry robes skeptically. “What are those?” He then looked into her face. “About how old are you now?”

Lian’s mind registered that she’d gone from curious to terrified in about zero seconds flat, and it did the one thing it knew how to do really well. 

Her Legilimens first became manifest while at home, with people she knew and loved. The very next day she’d gotten lost in New York, and her new ability went into overdrive, because what wouldn’t a child do to find their parents again? She’d read half of Brooklyn before she finally found her father. Since then, she’d been careful about going into parts of town that were unfamiliar to her--at least alone. She didn’t quite know how to stop it once it happened, it was as if her mind had its own trigger.

Basically, if confronted with a new and unknown obstacle, Lian could rip through them mentally to ascertain whether or not it was a threat. The strange boy with his accusatory words, the way he looked at her as though he knew her, or wanted to, his haunting, ghostly eyes. . . Lian lashed out.

Normally, she would gather the needed information instantly, but something about his mind prevented her from tearing away the required information. Instead, she only gained a name:  _ Roman. _

But then she felt something new. And if she was terrified before, she wanted to die then. He was speaking as he assessed her, whether actually knowing or guessing the information she did not know. “You’re eleven years old, which means you’re still at Ilvermorny. You haven’t been to Hogwarts yet, but suddenly now more than ever you really want to be there. You just...you found out about Oliver.” He paused, watching her face, glancing every so often at her wand arm, which which shook the more he talked. “Are you afraid of me? Then why don’t you. . .you don’t know an offensive spell. Not yet.” Lian’s fear and confusion was drowning her, she didn’t know what to do--and then the tall boy in black robes knelt so that he was at eye level with her. This time when he spoke, it was a stark contrast to the cold, unsympathetic voice he’d used at first. Now it was soft, like he was shushing a baby. “I don’t have a lot of time. You see this?” he held up a silver hourglass in his hand. The sand inside was bronze-colored, spiraling between the two sides evenly,  as though gravity had no effect on it. “It’s not working like it should. I’ll be taken away in a minute, but if you haven’t begun yet then you have to know. You have to go to Hogwarts as soon as you can. You’ll find everything you want to know about Oliver there, and when it’s the right time, you’ll find-” There was a soft pop and the boy in the black robes disappeared.

Lian released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. For several moments her body didn’t work, until finally some nerve reconnected, and she was running back through the castle. 

_ What just happened? What just happened!? What just- _ “OOF!” she cried out. 

“Where’s the fire?” Matt’s voice drifted from the warm body she’d just collided with. She jumped back, looking up into his eyes wonderingly. It felt like they hadn’t spoken in ages--Thunderbird and Horned Serpent didn’t have many classes together; their learning styles clashed with one another. He gripped her shoulders, holding eye contact. “What’s wrong?”

“I just...and he...Ollie…” she mumbled helplessly. Matt regarded her carefully, trying to make sense of those five words.

“Who’s Ollie?” Lian blinked, feeling her eyes grow wet with tears.  _ That’s right. I met Matt and his family a year after Ollie disappeared. He never knew...that I had another brother.  _

She made a decision. Taking a shaky breath, she said, “Never mind.” If the adults weren’t going to try, what could a school boy do? And who was going to believe what she’d just seen? The boy that came out of and returned into thin air… He was her problem. Ollie was her problem. How could she try to explain the quest that had taken root in her soul? Just imagining it felt insane, and foolish. 

She gave Matt a hug, telling him that she was just stressed out over their exams. He didn’t seem convinced, but knew better than to push her, instead opting for walking her back to the Thunderbird Loft. 

Once safely inside her dorm, she climbed into her bed and tried to dissect what the boy with silver eyes had told her. He made a point of showing her his broken hourglass, whatever that was. How had he known that she wanted to go to Hogwarts? What did he know about Oliver? And what was up with the way he spoke?  _ Where are you? What are those?  _ Like he’d never seen Ilvermorny robes before.  _ About how old are you now? _ Now?? Had they met before? She didn’t recognize him. Silver eyes...she’d probably remember a boy with silver eyes. It’s not like they were common in Manhattan. 

So many questions...but she had exams in the morning! Transfiguration bright and early, followed by Charms. She had to survive the week first, and then she could ponder over Silver-Eyes and his strange...ness.

  
  


She hardly slept, having tossed and turned the entire night. Kristy, who occupied the bunk beneath Lian’s, eventually tired of the rustling from above and kicked the mattress to communicate her displeasure. They glared at each other from across the stacked waffles one of the upper classmen had made. 

Barely anyone talked before they descended to the rest of the school. Exams were taken oddly. The first, third and sixth years took exams at the same time, so there would be no opportunity for cheating off each other’s papers, while the second and fourth took theirs together. The fifth years had OWLs, while the seventh years had the NEWTs, so it was all very tense and exhausting. 

Lian was among the first to finish the Transfiguration exam, one of the last to finish Charms, and finished the Potions exam at a moderate pace. Kamau’s self-transfiguration class had its own exam, as he was a new teacher with a new subject, everyone, no matter what year level, had to simply transfigure themselves in some way, to grant themselves new powers. Lian gave herself gills on accident--she’d been trying to give herself a merfolk tail, but she got full credit anyway, right after she began breathing normally again.

She did well in her History of Magic exam, even answering bonus questions about the Native American legends of Animagi (aka skinwalkers,) and Astronomy left her feeling drained. Knowledgeable but drained. Afterwards, Beck kept asking everyone what their zodiac sign was, for no particular reason other than she wanted a happy distraction in the middle of the week. Lian learned more about being a Gemini than she’d ever wanted to in one sitting. 

By the time she crawled into Friday afternoon’s exam for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she couldn’t tell the difference between a fake wand and a self-inking quill. When her writing utensil turned into a  _ Big Mouth Billy Bass  _ halfway through a sentence, Lian knew she was ready to be done.

  
  


Her suitcase was packed, the end of the year had come faster than anyone wanted, and exams finished whether they liked it or not. Many of the students decided the best place to be was in their common areas, celebrating the end of the year with their Housemates before the shuttles returned for them in the morning.

It was not so with Lian. Returning to the hustle and bustle of the city excited her, but at the same time she knew it would be harder to acquire peace with her mind so she decided to meditate one last time in the cave beneath the school before she was subject to a long summer at home. She had a lot to think about after all, and she needed a clear head. 

Maybe her mother would finally let her take voice lessons, or maybe she could sign up with a dance studio like she used to when she was Seraphina’s age. She’d have to keep busy somehow; a whole three months without her wand seemed much worse now than it had back in the autumn.

She sat cross-legged beside the edge of the glowing lake, shoulders relaxed and back straight like she had a string pulling her up to the roof of the cave. There was a soft pop beside her, and she glanced sideways, half expecting to see Kamau, who would join her on occasion. The body standing next to her was definitely not Kamau. They were garbed in black robes, and gave a strained grunt before falling sideways onto the cave floor as a pool of dark red spread beneath them. 

Lian scrambled to the person’s side, and gently rolled the sorcerer until she was lying on her back. At least, Lian thought it was a ‘she’. The hair was roughly cut, and drenched in sweat and other liquids, likely.

Her eyes raked over the blood that coated the front of the school robes. They wore a black cloak that had been ripped to shreds, but the crest over the heart remained intact, though stained a dark red. 

Lian looked into their eyes, which were gazing blankly at the stalacites high over their heads. 

“You...who..?”

“You had to know...you had to see…” the sorcerer whispered. The emotions Lian was picking up from them were overwhelming, like a sandcastle trying to endure a tsunami, she wanted to collapse and melt away under their might. “...there’s no...ing...y-you can d-do…”

“No, no you’ll be fine. I just need to--hOlY shishkabob, that’s a lot of blood. Okay, I just need to-uhm-uh-” she tore her sleeve off and pressed it into the gash stretching across their chest. “-I knew I should’ve been a Pukwudgie,” she whined, her fright manifesting itself as tears. She knew nothing about healing spells. Her friend, Aisha had learned several already, but the Thunderbird first years had been taught other things like defense, direction and survival. 

“F-fi...nd Th… not...Malf...a-and Ha...ree…” the sorcerer’s breath was coming and going in soft puffs now. “Kee...p them s-s-sa…fe.”

“Wait, wait I d-don’t underst-and,” Lian stuttered, and she felt her heart and face begin to cry. As panicked as she felt, her brain went into overdrive to compensate. To fix what was freaking her out. To find answers. 

She dived into the mind of the sorcerer. She’d never been inside the memory of someone who was fading in and out of consciousness, but it was not something she would recommend to other Legilimens users, it was quite uncomfortable. One moment she was gazing into one memory and then it would be torn away only to be replaced by a new and completely random sight. 

She saw a boy with dark hair and impossibly blue eyes staring back at her, a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth. She felt elated just looking at his face and she had no idea who he was. Then poof! he vanished and she was gazing at an angry looking boy with glasses and emerald green eyes. The distant words sounded from a voice that sounded suspiciously like hers, but slightly different. “ _...if you think for one second that you're braver than I am then you need to check your ego at the door because you're no better than me." _ Then he was gone and she was watching a scene unlike anything she’d ever imagined. She was watching a wizard's duel from the floor, a woman with wild eyes versus a man with a large portrait of a swearing woman stuck to his rump. A flash of light struck the wizard across his side and he fell… The scene faded and she was gazing at a boy with long dark hair and sharp, silver eyes. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why. Then he was gone and in his place was a boy with platinum hair, crying desperately. He kept saying over and over, “ _ I don’t know! I can’t do this anymore!”  _ And then she looked upon a memory that was too familiar for comfort. An old wizard played with a young girl, who couldn’t have been older than three or four years old. Her twin brother snoozed nearby while an occamy and a bowtruckle snuggled beside him. The old wizard feigned death and the little girl went into absolute hysterics. “Uncle Oot! Uncle Oot! I didn’t hear your last wish!” 

He peeked open one eye and looked down at her. “I beg your pardon?”

At that moment, another adult, a woman with long dark hair, walked into the room and scooped the little girl up into her arms. “Bath time for you, you little ankle biter.”

“Mommy no!” The little girl screamed, startling her brother and the creatures awake. The three looked around wildly, expecting an attack from the fearless toddler. 

“Please, Amaya dear, just another moment,” Oot pleaded. Amaya went to argue, but heard the toddler break something expensive in the kitchen. 

“Ooh! Alright hold her a moment!” She dropped her daughter into Oot’s arms and charged into the other room, voicing her anger in Japanese. 

“Now then,” Newt said contentedly, gazing down at his great-niece. “What’s all this about a ‘last wish’?”

Sticking out her bottom lip, the little girl replied. “ Mama says that when someone dies, the last thing they say is their last wish, and you have to do everything in your power to fulfill it."

Lian wrenched her mind out of the witches, staring in horror down at her. “How did you...what  _ are...why..?” _

_ “Don’t forget me… _ ” her future-self warned, before vanishing into thin air. 

  
  


**-END OF PART ONE-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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